MEMOIR
OP
EEV. GEO. W. 3ETHUNE, D. D.
BY
REV. A. R. VAN NEST, D. D,
NEW YORK:
SHELDON AND COMPANY.
498 BROADWAY.
1867.
Entered according to Act of Congress in llie year 18G7, by
SEEI.DCN AM) CCMPA^'Y,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New
York.
3. E. FAftWKLL & CO.,
Stercotypers and Printers,
ST Congress Street,
BostoUi
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Eaelt Life. 1
CHAPTER II.
TcENiNG TO God , . 19
CHAPTER III.
Seminary. — Visit to the South 41
CHAPTER IV.
Rhinebeck Miktstky 70
CHAPTER V.
Ministry in Utica. S^
CHAPTER VI.
Settling in Philadelphia. — Wanderings in Europe. . 122
CHAPTER VII.
Success in Philadelphia. 1^3
CHAPTER VIII.
Art of Angling.— Eorest Life. 199
CHAPTER IX.
Literary and Public Labors 226
CHAPTER X.
New Church at Brooklyn. — Goes Abroad. « • .• 249
(iii)
IV CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XI.
Plattorm Oratoet. #273
CHAPTER XII.
Anonymous Attack. 319
CHAPTER XIII.
Patriotism. — Union Speech. 352
CHAPTER XIV.
Departure from Brooklyn. — Residence in New York. —
Return to Europe 376
CHAPTER XV.
Closing Scenes 407
CHAPTER XVI.
Personal Reminiscences 424
PREFACE
The compiler of tbis volume presents the results of his labor to the
public with modesty. This does not arise from any want of interest
or importance in the subject, but JDecause it has been found difficult to
present the portrait of a person so varied in gifts and rich in culture.
He prefers therefore to call it a Memoir, as an instrument to preserve
Dr. Bethune in memory, rather than a life which could assume to give
a full and perfect representation. If there is any deficiency it is not
caused by any lack of loving assistants in the good endeavor. Seldom
has a book been written in which so many willing hands have borne a
part. First and foremost stands Mrs. Bethune, who, with untiring
fidelity, has collected her husband's correspondence and has contrib-
uted many precious associations Mr. George Trott of Philadelphia,
frequently known in the subsequent pages as " the Major,*' has filled
up many blanks. J. B. Brown Esq., formerly consul at Florence,
Italy, has been useful in collecting letters, and his facile pen has sup-
plied many connecting sentences. Finally, when pastoral duty
compels the editor to leave the country, Rev. Dr. W. J. R. Taylor, of
the American Bible Society, has promised to see the book safely
through the press. The names of other generous assistants will
appear as the work proceeds, and to them our readers will owe a debt
(V)
VI PREFACE.
of gratitude. Specimens of Dr. Bethune's sermonizing would have
been given were it not contemplated to produce at least two volumes
of his popular lectures and choice discourses. That there must be
difference of opinion as to the positions taken by a man of such strong
character on great questions is certain, but the aim of the biographer
has been to take his view from the stand-point of his subject, and not to
justify his course. Let those opposed exercise the grace of charit)'.
The Memoir has been delayed by the collection of material, in fact
the work was not fully put in our care until a httle more than a year
since. If the result shall be to revive the love that any felt for this
'* radiant messenger of God," if it shall justify him in the sight of any
who have misunderstood his theories; above all, if it shall be the
means of winning any to that Saviour whom it was the sincere and
single desire of Dr. Bethune to proclaim, the writer will not have
labored in vain : Salvete Omnes.
Da. BETHUNE IN STUDY DRESS.
MEMOIR OF
GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
CHAPTER I,
EARLY LIFE.
WHEN a person has gained a distinguished position, and
made a marked impression upon the men of his time,
it becomes interesting to observe the method or training
by which such power has been acquired. It must be
confessed that the subject of our memoir stood eminent
amongst his own countrymen, and while much of his
success was due to natural gifts, vastly more must be
attributed to early culture and divine grace. George W.
Bethune was descended from a long line of honored and
pious ancestry. On the paternal side he sprang from the
French Huguenots. In Picardy a large town bears the
family name, and his house could boast of relation to the
Duke of Sully, the friend of King Henry IV. *
Persecution compelled them to join in the exodus from
their native country, and they found a new home in Scot-
* The name " Bethune " holds an illustrious place in French history. The family
were Counts of Flanders, and one of them, Bobert de Bethune, signalized himself
by taking La Roche Vandais where the rebel Marcel had retired. Another of the
same name in Sicily killed Maufuoy, the tyrant, an act which Charles of Anjou
rewarded by the gift of his daughter Catherine as wife. In later times they formed
the highest social connections, even contracting royal alliances. — ifcmofr* o/ the
Duke of Sully.
(I)
2 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
land. From Rosshire in that land, Divie Bethune, the
father of Dr. B., emigrated in early life first to Tobago,
West Indies, and afterwards to the United States, locating
in New York. His motive for the latter change seems to
have been a religious one, as is evident from his first intro-
duction to notice by Mrs. Graham : —
"There is a young man here of the name of Bethune (pronounced
Beaton), who was in Tobago, and has told me of his steadiness in non-
conformity to the world even there, and his strict adherence to his
profession, though he stood one of two who made any. This young
man became alarmed even there, and though his prospects of rising in
life were confined to that place, he finally took the resolution to leave
it and seek a Christian land ; he engaged here as a clerk in a wholesale
store, and wandered about from church to church for some time, at last
our John nailed him, by the blessing of God, and last Sabbath he
became a hopeful communicant. He is a lad of sense, has had a liberal
education, and John thinks him a double acquisition."
His early promise was not disappointed. He soon became
one of the most prominent and successful merchants of the
city, around whom the younger would gather for advice.
His piety increased with his years, and he was ready for
every good and generous enterprise ; in fact there was
little in the way of Christian benevolence in which he was
not a leader or a vigorous assistant.
"He printed the first religious tract long before the Tract Printing
House, he imported Bibles for distribution long before the Bible Society
was opened, was a foreign director of the London Missionary Society
long before any Missionary Society existed here, was one of the found-
ers of the American Colonization Society, and amongst the very
earliest movers in the cause of Seamen, long before the Seamen's
Friend Society."
He was one of the founders of the Princeton Theological
Seminary. When most successful in business, this good
man had an inclination to abandon his brilliant prospects
EARLT LIFE. 3
and enter Princeton Seminary, that he might be fitted to
become a missionary to the destitute parts of the country,
and then he exults at the thought of his entire family being
" Witnesses for Christ/'
About this period he became acquainted with Miss Joanna
Graham, who was a member of the Scotch Presbyterian
Church, with which he connected himself, under the pastor-
ate of Dr. John Mason ; she, like him (Mr. B.,) was earnestly
devoted to Christ, and sympathized in all his benevolent
ideas ; she was born in America, but her family were also from
Scotland, and their faith, eminent through successive gen-
erations, brought down to her a rich inheritance of cove-
nant promises. Her mother was Mrs. Isabella Graham,
whose life of shining goodness has given her a high place
in Christian biography. The father and mother of this lady,
Mr. and Mrs. John Marshall, were both pious, and her grand-
father was one of the Elders who quitted the Established
Church with the Rev. Ralph and Ebenezer Erskine. She
married Dr. John Graham, who, becoming a surgeon in the
British army, was ordered to Canada, and tlius the family
fixed its future abode in the New World. The father having
died, Mrs. Graham who had a finished education, was in-
duced to open a school for young ladies in New York, in
the management of which she was assisted by her daugh-
ters. This school soon became very flourishing, and a
source of blessing to many ladies of the highest social po-
sition. To one of these daughters, Miss Joanna, Mr. Be-
thune professed his love, and after much serious reflection
and prayer, a marriage was consummated. The union of
such godly persons, well grounded in the doctrine of Christ,
full of zeal in his cause, was very happily consummated ;
all their children were converted in their youth, and their
only son became the useful minister concerning whom we
4 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
write. He was born March 18, 1805, at Greenwich, then a
small village, but long since absorbed in the magnificent
growth of New York City. He was peculiarly a child of
prayer ; devout intercession was made before his birth, and
the event is thus acknowledged in his father's diary.
*' Lord, O Lord! how shall I praise thee for the mercies of this day.
Truly it may be said of me and mine, what hath God wrought. Thou
art our trust. Blessed be the Lord for a living mother and a living
child. Oh ! remember my request this morning. Eeceive my dedica-
tion of my son. Thou knowest all along what I have asked of my
God, that if he gave me a son, he might be sanctified from the womb,
and be made a faithful, honoured and zealous minister of the everlasting
gospel. Lord, hear us in this thing. 0 ! let this son be chosen of thee
to declare to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ. Give to
his dear mother and myself grace and wisdom for bringing him up in
the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Let him be a Samuel to the
Lord. 1 Sam. 1:27, 28."
A similar act of dedication occurred at his baptism on
April 14, 1805 :
" This afternoon my dear infant son George was baptized by Mr.
Forrest. I hope I can say, that with full purpose of heart he was de-
voted to the Lord by both his dear mother and myself. Mr. F. preached
from Gen. 1 : 27, and after sermon came home with us, and prayed fer-
vently for our infant and other children. O my God ! thou hast seen
my exercises this day ; the strong, simple faith I exercised in the prom-
ises thou hast made me to fasten upon, for n)y dear infant George this
day devoted to thee. Lord, honour this faith of thine own operation.
Let a blessing always attend the means of grace and instruction to tliis
man child, whom thou hast given us. Open his understanding early to
understand the Scriptures. Affect his heart even in infancy to love tlie
precious Saviour, and to adore his covenant Jehovah. Instruct his
mother and me to instruct him. Direct to proper teachers. Teach the
teachers to teach and bless their labours to him. Fortify his young
heart against the temptations, the false pleasures, the alluring vanities,
the contaminating examples of an evil worM. May he seek thee early
EAKLY LIFE. 5
and find tliec. Endow him richly with spiritual gifts. Give him the
learning of the world, and the divine wisdom to use his learning and his
abilities for the noblest purposes, the illustration of thy love, thy will,
thy grace to sinners of mankind. Make him a faithful minister of
Jesus Christ, humble, holy and self denying. Give him a contented
mind, a thankful heart. May he declare the whole counsel of God, and
while he is faithful and sound in his doctrine, do thou grant him to be
eloquent, animated, impressive and acceptable. I ask all this, for thou
art able to grant all I can ask. I ask it now, young as he is, knowing
that thou art God. Life is thy gift, life spiritual and divine is thy
work in the soul of man, all the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit
are thine to bestow, power to make the preacher's word successful is
of God, thou canst guide through life, conduct through death, and
minister an abundant entrance into glory. To whom then shall I go ?
To whom would I go ? My God ! unto thee, and thee alone. Hear my
supplications this day. Behold the promises I have taken." Isaiah 44 :
3, 5. 65:23, 24, 69:21."
Most remarkable prayer and how wonderful the fulfilment.
God granted to this man of faith, the very things he sought
for. The entire diary of Mr. Bethune might be published
to show the atmosphere which hallowed the home of this
young Samuel, and as a pattern for Christian parents.
Every important step in his life was sanctified by believing
prayer. Only a few months passed, when he was brought
very low by an attack of scarlet fever. This stroke came
very heavily upon the parents, as they had lately been
called to part with a beloved daughter, and now God
seemed about to take away their only son. It was a time
" of great searchings of heart/^ of deep humiliation and
earnest wrestling with God, in that pious family. The good
man prays, but he asks according to the rule of faith,
*•' Lord, let this dispensation have a blessed effect, let us
search our hearts and see, may we search them as with
the candle of the Lord.'^ As the case grows more alarm-
ing:
6 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
"0 my God! it appears to be thy \rill to ask of us the surrender of
our dear George, also. Lovely babe! How proud we were of him. Bat
who gave him? Who made him such? None but thou, my God.
Therefore, however dear to our hearts, however consoling to our pride,
this precious gift may have been, it is our duty to resign him to thy call.
0 ! make it a willing duty on our part. Let grace reign in our hearts
to humble, to sanctify and to resign. To do this must be thy work. * * *
But yet, low as he appears, it is still in thy power to save his life, and to
restore him to us. Lord, if it be lawful for us to urge this request, we
do urge it. What people is so great as thy people? Who have God so
nigh unto them as the Lord our God is to us in all things that we call
upon him for ? Lord, if it be really thy purpose to take from me my
George, O, receive him to thyself. May I yet meet my babe in heaven,
and there hear him sing to all eternity glory to our God."
When in answer to this effectual, fervent prayer of a
righteous man, health was restored, the voice of thanksgiv-
ing went up from that habitation, and the child was more
than ever dedicated unto the Lord.
" Oh how thankful should I be ! My babe, I trust, will not be raised
for nothing. He will be the Lord's ! Oh my gracious God, who hast so
far consented to our prayers, do thou crown thy mercy by sanctifying
this child from bis infancy, and qualifying him by thy Spirit for being
an eminently pious, able, useful, humble herald of thy gospel. Oh, my
precious Saviour, thy goodness to me is overflowing goodness ; my be-
loved son George, so providentially spared; so humbly but zealously set
apart for thy special service, not only by me, but seemingly by pious
Mr. Forrest and others ; my confidence in thy protection through all my
trials, all, all these rich mercies of my covenant God. "
When the child was a little more than two years old, chas-
tisement became necessary, which was attended with the
same spirit of prayer. Sept. 2Y, 1807.
"This morning I had to use the rod of correction very severely, on
my darling George, who discovers a most violent temper. And now,
oh my God! enable me to plead for my George. He is a child of
EARLY LIFE. 7
Adam. Bless to his young heart the rod of correction. Oh, my God,
my God, suffer me to surrender this charge to tliee. Oh, undertake
thou for me. Subdue thou his corruptions, and mouhl hira early, even
in infancy to thy will. "
The same fault is mentioned in the fifth year of his age
1809. " Grant early and great grace to our dear George,
who discovers so much of a high temper." "Behold
his strong corruptions and headstrong manner. Teach him
by thy grace, and oh, teach us to bring him up for thee."
This was a marked feature in the j^outh, at one time
leading to the injury of a young companion, when his
emotion was as intense in penitence, as it had before been in
wrath. He suffered more than the one he wounded, and
going upon his knees besought forgiveness. These prayers
run on in the same spirit, day after day, and year after year.
It would have been strange indeed, it would have argued
against the truth of God's promises, if such faithful,
loving entreaty, had not been followed by a great and abun-
dant blessing. When we consider the future greatness of
the man, we must recall the foundation of praj'er on which
his education was built.
The family residence at this time, was a pleasant villa on
the banks of the Hudson, which the good man named in his
Diary, ''Mount Ebenezer." Dr. Bethune alludes to it in
later years, in a poem to his mother :
I've lived through foreign lands to roam,
And gazed on many a classic scene,
Yet would the thoughts of that dear home
"Which once was ours oft intervene,
And bid me close again my weary eye
To think of thee and those sweet days gone by.
That pleasant home of fruits and flowers,
Where by the Hudson's verdant side
8 MEMOm OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
My sisters wove their jasmine bowers,
And he we loved, at eventide,
"Would hastening come from distant toil to bless
Thine and his children's radiant happiness.
Alas the change ! ihe rattling car
On flint paved streets profanes the spot,
Where o'er the sod we sowed the Star
Of Bethlehem and Forget-me-not.
Oh I woe to Mammon's desolating reign,
We ne'er shall find on earth a home again !
Divie Bethune being one of the foremost merchants of
the city, it must have been a home of luxury and taste,
and being prominent in every scheme of Christian benev-
olence, it must have been the constant resort of the great
and the good ; there too were found distinguished min-
isters, well-known missionaries and leaders in social
life.
** Well do I remember," says one who was afterwards tenderly asso-
ciated with the subject of this memoir, " our gambols on the green
lawn which sloped to the river, and the glee with which we laved our
hands in the grand Hudson. I have a sweet recollection of the happy
family, the genial smile with which I was welcomed by his sainted
father ; kind words from his mother and sisters as we admired the new
roses, and heard the history and specialty of each. She had named
the pleasant home ' Rose Bank,' from its great variety of roses. The
English cook too, who had come into the family when George was a
few months old, and the Hindoo servant* who had been found by Mr.
Bethune, stretched on his master's grave to die, and taken home to live
and be a faithful servant for forty years, all ready and anxious to con-
tribute to my happiness."
In the large hall of this mansion the village children
assembled for Sabbath instruction, and when a grand occa-
♦ Known aftenvards as Richard.
EARLY LIFE. 9
sion offered, as for instance a marriage, the orphans were
recipients of the good cheer.
There were two sisters, the elder, Jessie, married Rev.
Dr. McCartee of New York ; the younger, Isabella, united
to Rev. Dr. Duffield of Detroit, Mich, both of them gifted
women, who with their brother, were early taught the
practice of good works. He was a Sunday School teacher
at the age of thirteen.
For several years his education was conducted entirely
by his mother, who as we have seen, was a teacher of
some experience, admirably adapted to develop the gifts of
her son. To this maternal care he was indebted for many
of the graces which adorned his future career, especially
for his accomplishments as an orator, and intimate acquaint-
ance with English Classics. Instruction was commenced
early and by most easy and natural methods. When two
years old his letters were learned from the walks at their
villa, his mother drawing them upon the gravel. Gram-
mar was taught by chairs, and arithmetic computed by
marbles and balls. There was a remarkable development
of talent, but it was difficult to subject to discipline.
Causality was early prominent, for he was found one day
struggling with the old cat, to bury her in the ground that
she might grow kittens. The school system of that day
was but little adapted to his disposition. The trial was
not attempted until he had attained some years, but
upon the very day of his introduction to school, seeing a
companion who received undeserved punishment, he could
not endure the wrong. Young as he was, he attacked the
teacher and w^as summarily dismissed from the school.
Later he was placed with Dr. Nelson, the blind teacher,
whose severity was traditional amongst the older New
York families, and a similar cause led to his removal.
10 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
When reading his Latin lesson, for every mistake in which
a blow might be expected, he became so enraged that he
seized the rod from the teacher's hand and applied it
vigoronsly to his shoulders. Faulty as were these extrava-
gances of temper, and much anxiety as they must have
awakened ; yet, it is to be observed, that it was this same
impetuous, violent disposition which, when sanctified by
Divine grace, made him such a resolute and intrepid de-
fender of righteousness.
But over that display of depravity the godly father
mourned, and it was the occasion of new and more earnest
appeals to the throne of grace for Divine direction. These
entries occur in his diary
Dec. 17, 1815.
*' My dear and only son George gives me much uneasiness from his
carelessness and seeming indifference to religious exercises. " Feb. 4,
1816. "My poor young and only son George continues to exhibit a
great degree of insensibility. Oh Lord have mercy upon him. His
heart is hard and cold to religion. With man it is impossible to heal
him, but with God all things are possible." April 14, 1816. *'I am now at
a loss to whose care I shall commit my dear son George, and am deeply
exercised respecting his spiritual conviction. Oh Lord, my God, thou
seest the deep and pungent exercises of my soul with regard to my be-
loved son, whom thou hast given me, whose life thou hast preserved.
What shall I do with him ? To whose care shall I commit him ? I feel
helpless as an infant in tbis work. Oh God, my Saviour, undertake for
me. * * * I know that he lies at mercy, and my inmost soul rejoices
that he lies at ihrj mercy. * * Make him thy chosen vessel consecrated
to the Gospel Ministry. Every thing now seems to deny this hope, yet
I would commend him to thee, and hope against hope." May 19, 1816.
Blessed be thy name for giving us a prospect of placing him with thy
servant, Dr. Proudfit. I trust it is from thee. Oh prepare his way be-
fore him. "
Thus light dawned upon the path, the youth was placed
EARLY LIFE. 11
with Rev. Alex. Proudfit, D. D. of Salem, Washington Co.,
N. Y., pursuing his studies at the Academy under the care
of Rev. Joel Nott. This school was the nursery of many
ministers, Drs. Jas. M. Mathews, Wm. R. Dewitt, James
Beattie, John Proudfit, and Messrs. J. B. Steele, and William
Williams ; most of them older than Bethune. It is feared
that he did not advance rapidly in study at this place ; but
there were great advantages attending the change. He was,
at a most impressible age, removed from the temptations
of town life, and brought into contact with the simplicity
of country manners. His physical nature was strengthened
by manly sports of horsemanship and angling. Here he
made acquaintance with Fisher Billy. Dr. Prime of the
Observer, writes : —
" I asked Dr. Bethune where he, city born and bred, acquired his taste
and skill in fishing. He said ' that when a boy, at the Academy in Salem,
Washington County, N.Y., he fell in with a man called Tisher Billy
who gave him lessons and showed him how.' * What, Fisher Billy
from Cambridge ? ' I asked, with some surprise, ' how came he there with
you ? ' * The same man,' the Dr. replied ; ' he was often in debt and
obliged to go to Salem on the limits ; but the limits included a fine trout
stream, and there he practised the vocation that had tempted him to neg-
lect his business and lose his property.'"
Here, too, was cultivated that love of nature which
was such a notable feature of Dr. Bethune, amidst some of
its most lovely scenery, whilst gathering wild flowers upon
the hills, or whipping the trout streams at the base of the
Green Mountains. Neither was study entirely neglected.
He writes playfully to his mother ; —
♦'Dec. 1817.
My hat is a little too large ; howerer if I stuff a little more Latin and
Greek into my saphead, I shall be able to fill it. I have been studying
hard, and think I shall be able to enter the Sophomore Class of Unioii
College in the Spring. "
12 MEMOIR OF GKO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
At Salem, was formed an intimacy with Miss Mary-
Williams, the daughter of Colonel Williams, a beautiful
maiden of his own age, which afterwards ripened into most
devoted affection, an affection that increased with advan-
cing years, which was the joy and beauty of his future life,
which always had the warmth of youthful love and was not
chilled even by death, which, sanctified as it was, will
bloom fair and sweet in the morning of eternity. When
she was about leaving her happy home for boarding-school,
it was his part to cheer up her first great grief while the
stars were shining in the sky, and with his merry and witty
rhymes change the sighs of regret into shouts of laughter.
He had some skill in music and often amused himself with
the flute, on which he became a finished performer, beguiling
away the hours and pains of sickness^ in at least one
instance, with his sweet melodies. He was quite an adept
in the art of boxing, an exercise for which to the day of
his death he expressed respect ; which, if report speaks
truly, was again called into exercise in behalf of injured
innocence in the person of his young companion, John
Williams, who suffered from the imtable temper of their
tutor. His genial nature made him a great favorite with
the young, and while the old people shook their heads and
called him the mischievous New Yorker, they were not the
less charmed with his humor, and many enjoyed the benefits
of his bounties which he scattered with a lavish hand.
Even at this early period he shone as a member of a
literary club, known as the " Washington Adelphi Society,''
and in the youthful gatherings he was leader of the fun and
frolic. The religious atmosphere of the place was not
without its salutary influence. It js thus noted by liis
father : -^
EARLY LIFE. 13
"Both of Dr. Proudfit's sons are under serious impressions. My
dear son seems to understand much of tlie system of truth, with a
secret hope of being brought to its saving knowledge, but his vivacity
of manner and activity as yet prevent the hope of serious convictions. "
Again, "I have visited my son much to my satisfaction in Dr. Proudfit's
family. I trust that Jehovah, who mercifully provided such a situation
for my beloved son, will be graciously pleased to sanctify it to him. Oh
may he live consecrated to God. "
Thus peacefully and with much profit passed two of the
happiest years of his life, when he was called to New York
to be placed under a tutor's care in view of a better prepara-
tion for College. In this prospect, as in every important
change, the pious father was diligent in seeking divine di-
rection. At Salem young Bethune had formed a close
friendship with William Williams, a little older than himself,
"a truly pious boy, humble minded, intelligent and pleasant
in his deportment, exercised in faith and unto godliness.''
The two young men were " like David and Jonathan." This
latter was now invited to enter Mr. Bethune's family,
doubtless with the purpose of improvement from his reli-
gious influence, and shortly after the father rejoices '' that
his dear son is at home with us, blessed with a pious youth
for his companion and satisfied with him, both studying
closely under a pious tutor," and was deeply impressed
with the responsibility and honor of training these young
men for the Lord's service. In the days of his son's great-
est insensibility this purpose of the man of faith never
faltered. When George was fourteen years of age they en-
tered Columbia College, N. Y., in the fall of 1819. In the rou-
tine of academical studies he attracted no special interest.
He held a moderate position, neither rising high in the scale
of merit nor falling belov/ respectability ; but, as before, he
was distinguished in all the exhibitions of eloquence, and
14: MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
was an ornament of the Philolexian Society. Upon leaving
college his friends wrote :
" Your society will be mourning your loss in dust and aslies. " "The
exhibition (of the Society) was superior, but this did not happen with-
out forcibly reminding me of my good old crony George, who afforded
me so much pleasure in the recitation of the 'Prisoner of Chillon,'
nor was I the only one in whom it excited the recollection of past pleas-
ure. Many were heard to say, * Do you recollect how well George
recited. ' "
Here was exerted that peculiar influence over his young
companions; which in after years was described as a magical
charm that he possessed of attaching others to himself.
Perhaps a friend of his youth (Dr. Smith Pyne, of AVash-
ington, D. C,) has given the explanation of this power :
" I sympathize sincerely in your happiness, but my very dear friend,
I think it is hardly possible for you to be unhappy anywhere. The
strength of your understanding, and the buoyancy of your spirits fortify
you against all the lesser, but most annoying ills of life, and you have
that open-heartedness and fascination of manner, which must make
friends for you wherever you may be. I do not believe, George, I ever
met with a person whose countenance was so perfect an index of his
feelings as yourself, and the quality which I love you most for, is that
blunt honesty with which you will tell a friend his faults, and the single-
heartedness and affectionate pleasure with which you praise his good
qualities. "
His humor and love of sport led him to practise on the
dullness of a classmate who requested aid in the preparation
of essays, by inditing the most extravagant and pedantic
papers which the young gentleman would recite with all the
sobriety of a Nestor, to the great amusement of all the
college except the victim. In fact the life of young Be-
thune at this time was a joyous, rollicking one. Songs were
continually upon his lips, smiles beamed on his face and
EARLY LIFE, 15
play and fun occupied his whole heart. Another of
his amusements at this period, which absorbed much of his
time, was the game of billiards. An early acquaintance,
who was requested to furnish materials for this memoi)-,
said, " I was only intimate with him during' his college daj^s,
and my associations are not such as you would care to put
in the record of a gospel minister.'' Another classmate thus
recalls old memories :
" At one time, I imagine myself in the windo\7-seats of Columbia Col-
lege cracking jokes with my old crony George, and I almost answer to
the imaginary voice of old , * Mr. Bethune and Mr. you are
continually diverting my attention ; ' at another time I detect myself in
the act of beating my own sides under the impression that I am the
black stud's back, and endeavouring to cast the dust of the avenue in
the eyes of C 's mare. Then again I well imagine that I am in the
Society room, listening with deep attention to j'our eloquence, or my
lively imagination carries me forth to the cricket ground, where I view
your weighty corpus in the fruitless contests for superiority of agility
with the shadowy form of J. Y. and there also I hear your expostu-
lations with old Turvey for the extravagant price and base qualities of
his beer. "
The same friend gives him a full account of the Long
Island races and bets which he and other friends had
made, and assumes that they both will be equally inter-
ested in the success of the great " Eclipse." But while
thus occupied in a career of gayety and worldliness, it is
not to be supposed that he sank into any of the baser forms
of dissipation ; he was frolicsome and this led him into
mischief; he was impetuous and this caused many quarrels ;
but he was alwa3^s devoted to refined female society, and
this, combined with the sanctified influences of home, pre-
served him from the haunts of vice. A companion who was
with him on an excursion, which had much of extravagance,
IG MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
says, that he reminded Dr. B. of it in after life, when he re-
plied, " I remember it well and have deeply repented of
it; from that text I have preached fifty sermons.'' As
this made so deep an impression, we conclnde that such oc-
casions could not have been frequent even in his wild days.
About this period, while engaged in cricket play upon the
battery, his leg was dislocated by a young companion. With
much self command he desired his friends to send for Dr.
Post, an eminent surgeon. The Doctor ordered the at-
tendants to pull off the boot, the operation being painful,
the youth cried, "Gut the boot,'- when the Doctor inter-
fered, saying, " Young man, when you earn the money to
pay for boots, you may order them to be cut to pieces." —
The good doctor's design was quickly evident, for in the
hard pull upon the member it had been restored to its nor-
mal condition. This accident was the cause of a long and
trying confinement, during which numerous friends came
to visit him, among whom was the eloquent and saintly
Methodist preacher, Summerfield, who had just commenced
his ministry in New York. He talked seriously, although
he said, the conversation of gay companions was now
more acceptable ; yet he felt sure that some day Bethune
would not only delight in religion, but that he (Mr. S.)
would hear him proclaim the Saviour's love with power to
dying sinners. This hope was realized, for although it
pleased the Lord to remove this good man from his labors
before the youth had finished his theological studies, still
Summerfield was privileged to hear him urge the cause of
missions, pleading for the love of Jesus. At last he was re-
stored to his full powers, but alas ! neither the trying prov-
idence, nor all the pious addresses, nor the frequent prayers
made in his behalf had produced any marked effect ; he rose
EAELY LIFE. 17
from his sick bed the same careless worldly youth ; not that
he was entirely destitute of religious impressions, such could
scarcely be the case, considering the pious surroundings of
his home. His father, who watched anxiously every hope-
ful sign, thus wrote in his diary :
" My dear George is now singing hymns. I hear his dear voice ; it is
a pleasant sound. 0 ! my God, put life in his soul that there may bo
life in his praise. "
Again: "Read with George and Williams three verses alternately,
making afterwards suitable remarks, partly offered by myself, and partly
elicited from them by the eighth chapter of Mark. I thought George
appeared raised to more spiritual concern in the discussion of this im-
portant chapter than I have seen him for a long time."
But whatever signs of good there might have been, this
was a period of deepest solicitude to the godly parent, and
most earnestly did he betake himself to the throne of grace.
*' Lord, bless my son. Thou seest how very cold and careless he is.
Lord, do in this matter as in other things ; when thou hast shown me my
utter inefficiency towards effecting any good work in him, do thou be
pleased to step in with majesty and grace to make him willing in the day
of thy power." "Yesterday was the birthday of our beloved son, on
which he completed his fifteenth year. Blessed, ever blessed be my
God, who hath preserved him so long to his fond parents. Oil make his
whole soul one flame of fire to Thee — his whole life a hymn of praise
to Thee. Hasten it in its time. Oh, Lord God, strengthen my faith to
wait for it ; believing that though it tarry, I shall wait for it because it
will surely come ; it will not tarry ; the just shall live by faith. "
What strong, persevering faith was that which believed
when appearances were so dark, and could hopefully say,
" I seem to feel as if the conversion of our dear son George
would be given to us.'^ Neither was it all faith, but he
joined works to faith. It has been noted with how much
2
18 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
care he selected his school and tutor, sought out for him
companions, supplied him with suitable religious books, di-
rected him to such preaching and places as were specially
favored by the Holy Ghost, and neither of his parents wearied
in personal addresses on the subject. The following ex-
tract is a specimen of their soul-stirring appeals :
" Can I be easy, my beloved George, until I see you escaped from the
snares of Satan, and delivered from the inward dominion of sin, the
agent of Satan in the hearts of men. You have only to pray fervently
to God for his Holy Spirit, and confessing your weakness, your ignorance
and your danger, to cast yourself on the covenant mercy of God, en-
sured by his precious promises to them who ask the one and plead the
other with sincerity of heart. Now, my dear George, retire to your room
and pour out your heart before God, and examine the Scriptures, and
plead the promises Avhich I have set down for you ; here are some texts
marked. "Were you to die in your present state, or to continue thought-
lessly in sin, until your heart became hardened through the deceitfulness
of sin ; alas ! how awful would your end and your eternity be, and how
heart-rending the affliction of your dear mother and myself for the eter-
nal ruin of our only and dear son. My dear son, no other good is worth
pursuing, until you have secured the chief good, and having once ob-
tained the favour of God and the hope of eternal life, you could then
pursue all other studies with cheerfulness, diligence and effect. You
will therefore allow the love of a father to be importunate for the welfare
of a dear son, and as you love me who love you so truly, I lay it upon
you to think seriously on the subject, to occupy your mind with truth,
and to devote a part of every day in retirement, to supplicate the bless-
ing of God on your soul and your life."
During his youth he was subject to several attacks of sick-
ness, often assuming a character of much severity. Al-
though surrounded with so many good influences, addressed
by so many tender appeals, warned by God's providences,
Satan still had the mastery ; the hard, natural heart resisted
the means of grace, and George remained a worldling.
TURNING TO GOD. 19
CHAPTER II.
TURNING TO GOD.
The mode of life we have described could not have been
pleasing to godly parents and the position is thus given :
*'My soul is afflicted by the thoughtless state of my dear son's mind.
He has a hurried order of spirit which impels him to pursue with eager-
ness any object that suddenly gains his attention. At college he is
exposed to companions and conversation unsuitable to the general tenor
of my instructions to him. The young men rouse liis pride and his jeal-
ousy by accounts of routs and plays and parties, and now before liis
education is finished, he is thirsting for enjoyments, which, by anticipat-
ing, he may never be able comfortably to possess. "Whilst his heart is
diverted from a love of religious duties and hardening against self-deny-
ing courses, whilst his deadness to spiritual tilings gives no sign of liis
becoming a minister of the gospel; his indolent, gay disposition, if indul-
ged, will unfit him for those business habits so essential to a commercial
life. My soul is sometimes harrowed Avitliin me."
At another time we read : — *' Almighty God, I would now come before
thee, and ask wisdom as to the course of conduct I should pursue with
respect to my son. He is of an impetuous, assimilating temper, and
much exposed to temptations at the college, with so many thoughtless
companions, and no adequate benefit derived from the risk. He is in
the way of idle, speculative views and habits, and is now getting a relish
for company. He will be learning to spend largely, without being at all
fitted to make anything. Would it not be better to place him at once
with a merchant to learn liis business, and to acquire habits of industry
and diligence, as well as skill of goods ? I beseech thee, oh my heavenly
Father, to instruct and direct me in this important movement ; teach me
in this trying situation of my poor son."
20 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
He was now seventeen years old. lo was indeed a lijie for
the deepest parental solicitude. Were all those hopes of minis-
terial usefuhiess to be blasted ? were all those consecrations, aU
those prayers and all those entreaties to be worthless ? was
that father to sit still and see his son laboring and toiling under
the horrible yoke of the infernal one and wretchedly choosing
the things of this world through the dominion of sin and un-
belief in his soul ? It could not be ! And now light arose in
the darkness, Christian prudence demanded that these asso-
ciations which, though not sinful, were unfavorable to piety,
should be sundered, and a most inviting prospect opened
before them.
Rev. Dr. John M. Mason, a ripe scholar and the most elo-
quent pulpit orator of his country, and perhaps of his age^
had been called to preside over Dickinson College at Car-
lisle, Pa. The ficulty was small, but could scarcely have
been more perfect, consisting of Prof. Vethake, a thorough
mathematician, and Dr. Alexander McClelland, who as an
educator of youth was without a parallel. This institution
so admirably furnished, presented great attractions to the
young and opened a door of hope to the praying father.
Dr. Mason had long been a pastor and friend of Mr. Bethune's
family, and Mr. Duffield, the son-in-law, was now pastor of
the Presbyterian Church at Carlisle. In September 1822,
young Bethune and his companion Williams, entered this
college to complete the studies of the senior year, a change
which in the providence of God proved of the greatest im-
portance to his eternal Vv'elfare. Directly after his arrival,
we find him speaking of the change with gratification. The
professors at Columbia College were not popular with stu-
dents, and we conclude that there had been quite an exodus
from his class, part going to Carlisle and others to Yale. We
find him writing of his new associations with pleasure, and
TURNING TO GOD. 21
giving the liighest praise to Dr. McClelland and his lectures.
Of Dr. Mason, however, he says : " I was too young to know
him in his palmy days of strength and power. I did not
come closely under his influence until 1822, which was some
years after the shock which affected irreparably his mighty
intellect:" although he speaks of Dr. Mason's "profound
and elegant erudition," displayed in " his Comments on the
Art of Poetry, by Horace, and the Treatise on the Sublime,
by Longinus." We have no account of his standing at col-
lege, although we find him at once engaged in the Belles
Lettres Society. At this time his father wrote to him as to
a warm fiiend of Summerfield, who would take an interest in
his health which was now rapidly failing, and speaks of young
Willett who was one of Summerfield's converts and a great
delight to his heart, seeing that, when he was dead, Willett
could preach. He takes occasion to excite his pride in sus-
taining the credit of the college ; hinting that there had
been disorders of late and that this report had done much
harm to its prospects. He concludes with an appeal on
the great topic:
" I left you with strong emotions. Oh, that I could see you safe ■R'itliin
the covenant. The eternal God is thy refuge. Can you choose a better ?
The contest is for heaven. You must begin the inward conflict, the
battle with yourself, sooner or later, or your soul is lost forever ! ! !
Begin at once. Ask the Lord for a new heart. Be not cheated out of
your soul by a thoughtless impetuosity that gives way to outward temp-
tations. Rouse, my son, and put a heavenly courage on. A crown of
glory is the prize. Eternity against Time, holiness against pollution.
Linger not, the Lord calls. Let your soul obey."
He had been located at Carlisle only a little more than a
month when God visited the college in a very solemn man-
ner by the death of one of their young companions, James H.
Mason, the son of the President, and a very promising young
22 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
man of great piety of character, who was carried off by typhus
fever. The family were already in mourning from the recent
death of his sister, Mrs. Yan Yechten, and this second blow
brought desolation indeed. Dr. Mason entertained a strong
j^rejudice against funeral services, on the ground that they
were apt to become occasions for eulogizing the dead. Upon
this occasion, Mr. IMcCartee, who for the time supplied the
pulpit of Mr. Duffield, was requested to beg that an address
should be made at the grave for the sake of the young men
in the College. He did so. Dr. Mason replied, " No, these
things are so often abused." As the young men who served
as pall-bearers lifted the coffin, the afflicted father exclaimed
in solemn tones, v/hich those who were present can never
forget, " Young men, tread lightly! ye bear a temple of the
Holy Ghost," then overcome by his feelings, he dropped
his head upon his friend's shoulder and said, " Dear McCartee,
say something which God may bless to his young friends."
The scene in the graveyard is described as one of deep im-
pressiveness. There was the grand old patriarch bowed to the
ground under the weight of sorrow, with the youth of the col-
lege who felt that a brother had been stricken, and round
about were mourning relatives and sympathizing towns-
people. Mr. McCartee, who had a warm heart and whom sud-
den emotion would often raise to the highest eloquence,
spoke as if by inspiration a lesson suited to the occasion ;
many people remarked that they had never seen such a
graveyard, and all seemed in tears and many in agony. Tlie
address was wonderfully blessed of God. A revival power-
ful and precious in its fruits began in the college and town.
In this revival young Bethune, had a share, but it may be
imagined that such a strong and earnest nature as his would
not j^ield without a struggle. While vice had not posses-
sion of him, yet the claims of pride and affection bound him
TURNING TO GOD. 23
to the world and he had undergone a hardening process,
when resisting for years all the calls of Divine grace. Sel-
dom had a young man been so surrounded with holy influ-
ences or resisted so many loving entreaties. Aware that
from his earliest infancy he had been dedicated to the Lord,
early taught to pray and love Jesus ; on every proper occa-
sion addressed upon the subject by father and mother ; taken
to hear the most eloquent preachers, addressed privately by
Summerfield, Ward, young Edward Kirk, and others; again
and again laid upon the bed of sickness, to give space for re-
flection ; yet he had been able to resist all the strivings of the
spirit, and although young in years, yet by custom he had be-
come very hardened in his heart, and it was not without a
fierce contest that the rebellious nature could be conquered
even by the Saviour's love. But the history of an event so
important in our memoir can be best gathered from anxious
eye witnesses, Mrs. Bethune and Mr. Duffield :
" Our dear son," says his mother, "had been three years at Columbia
College, N. Y. We placed him there, because he could still reside under
the parental roof, and be under our oAm eye ; that he might have a suit-
able companion, we educated a young man -vrith him, and we fondly
hoped that the Lord would accept the dedication of our son, which we
had made to him in baptism, and fit him to serve him in the gospel minis-
try. Every afiiiction He visited him with, (and he has been often laid on
the bed of sickness,) we hoped was the means to bring him home to him-
self, and although he often seemed serious and alarmed at the thoughts
of death, yet whenever he got well he became as thoughtless as ever.
"When the college at Carlisle Avas revived, and our dear friend. Dr.
Mason became its principal, our son and several other students of Colum-
bia College became anxious to spend their last year of study under his
care. "We felt almost afraid to part with our son, yet seeing his grea«
desire to go, and knowing that he would be under the kind and watchful
eye of his dear brother Duffield, Ave consented. Little did we think of
the blessing God was preparing for us in his providence, by directing the
dear youth to this step. He entered upon study in September, 1822. I
24 MEMOIR OF GEO. AV. BETHUNE, D. D.
followed in October, and Mr. Mc Cartee arrived in Carlisle on the fifteenth
of November, when James Hall Mason, son of our dear friends Dr. and
Mrs. Mason, lay at the point of death in a bilious fever. Mr. Duffield,
being obliged to administer the communion to a vacant congregation, was
necessarily absent. Mr. Mc Cartee providentially arrived to administer
consolation to our aflBicted friends. James was delirious during the
whole of his illness, but his conversation, although incoherent, showed
that his mind dwelt on serious tilings. To Mr. Duffield, who sat up
with him one night, he said, ' If you knew what a sinner I have been, you
would not be so kind to me. I once thought that I had experienced the
love of God shed abroad in my heart, and endeavoured to walk in the
right way, but when I became a professor, I thought I must be a gentle-
man, and turned aside from the right way.' The morning of his death
reason seemed to return, he knew those around him and uttered plainly
these words, ' My son give me thy heart.' He departed about one, P. M.,
Saturday, the 16th. Mr. McCartee did not come out to dinner, and ray
son George, who never would believe that James would die, was fretting
and fuming because he could not get his dinner and go out riding on
horseback. I was shocked at his seeming indifference, and told him I
was sure that James was dying, and that was what detained Mr. Mc Cartee.
He ate his dinner and started for town. I went to my knees to plead for
my poor boy, begging the Lord, for his name's sake, to have compassion
on the poor youth whom nothing seemed to affect. I felt wretched, and
said to his sister, that I deeply regretted we had let him come to Carlisle,
he showed such violence of temper, and so much self-sufficiency that I
trembled for the time when I should leave him from under parental
authority. ' Lord help me,' was my cry. I had no comfort but trusting
in a sovereign God. The youth seemed to scorn my advice, and would
none of my reproof. God only could change his heart. I often told him
that I never expected to see him curb his temper, till he began to pray.
He seemed sorry after he had been in a passion, but for the merest trifle
would again give way to his temper. When he returned in the evening,
I asked him * What he thought of himself, to be so concerned about his
dinner, when his friend was passing from time to eternity ? ' He said
* Oh mother, don't talk about dinner, when poor James Mason is dead.'
I endeavoured to improve this dispensation to him. He seemed to feel
deeply ; but it was only liis sorrow for liis friend that made him weep."
We continue the narrative as given by Mr. Duffield :
TUHNlIsG TO GOD. 25
"The solemn scene at the interment of IMr. Duncan left upon the
minds of many an apparently greater seriousness and attention to the
means of grace than had tcfore been observed. The communion season
which followed was unusually solemn. Several of the young men in the
college were very deeply impressed by the services of that day, and
one or two sought for Christian instruction. The death of poor James
Mason struck a peculiar awe upon the youth in college. Brother Me Car-
tee's address at the grave was remarkably owned, and the hearts of many
quaked at the thought of death. On the following Tuesday, eight of the
students met with us under deep and anxious concern about the state of
their soul-i. The number Avas increased to fourteen on Thursday after,
of every one of whom we now entertain hopes. There are yet four or five
more, deeply impressed, knov>m to be so, but hoAv many more it is impos-
sible to conjecture. The church was crowded yesterday, and the audience
as solemn as the grave. I never saw in any place such deep and fixed
attention, and such evident struggling with feeling. What may be the
present extent of the impression we know not, but that it is not conSned
to the college, the appearance of the congregation yesterday showed. I
have no doubt that the Lord has commenced a good and gracious work
among us, which will only be stopped by the unbelief and stumbling stocks
which Christian professors may cast in the way.
The change in my dear brother George has filled our house with songs
of triumpli and praise. I know how anxiously you watched and prayed
for him, so that anytliing relative to the great change will be peculiarly
interesting. The Lord is a Sovereign, and he acts in such a sovereign
manner, as to laugh all our wisdom to scorn. I tliink you will feel as
we all do, that He was determined to let us see that it was only and alto-
gether His own work. On Monday last, it was whispered among the pious
students that there were several of their fellow collcgiates distressed in
their minds. On Tuesday, an invitation was given to brother McC. and
myself to meet with them. George heard of it that day, and that Mr.
Codwise was among the number of inquirers. He wrote a note to him,
desiring him to come out here, but received a reply that he could not
in consequence of the perturljed state of his mind. Vic met that even-
ing and found that dear youth among the number and most deeply af-
fected. Samuel McCoskiy also was there, but he had obtained a hope.
All George's friends were cither there or reported to be deeply impressed.
On our return home we bcr^an to state that wc had seen some of the
26 MEMOIR OF GEO. AV. EETIIUXE, D. D.
young men, and detailed their exercises, i^articularly of Codwise arA
McCoskry, and afterwards had family worship; when brother McC;,
Vv'illiam, and myself left the chamber for tiie parlor. *"IIis mother writes,
*I felt confounded. I ought to have rejoiced, but I could not. I-ly
eon is not amongst them,' burst from my lips ; ' nothing seems to affect him/
" I asked him," says Mr. Dufndd, "if he had heard that so many of his
young friends Avere inquiring. He seemed surprised, and got almost
angry, said. How could it be? lie had seen them witliin a day or two,
and they were not serious then. I told him God was not lil^e man.
lie could convince and convert in a short time. His great concern was,
lest his dear friends should not know what they were doing, and by and
by when the impression wore off, they would be branded as backsliders.
He left his sister's room, and coming down to the pa,rlour, walked in great
agitation, accusing us of being instrumental in promoting religious cal-
umny, of endangering the reputation of his friends, and manifested great
warmth and violence of feeling. The first thing tliat was said, which ax>-
peared to .calm him was, tha.t we were as tenacious of the reputation of
Codwise as he was, and loved him dearly. He then stated more calmly
his own opinion upon the nature of their excited feelings, and said ho
thought it strange that a change should have taken place in his friends
and he not know it ; that it should be done so speedily, and that they
should not acquaint him with it, from Avhom they had never concealed
anything. He protested however, that he could not be duped, and that
no man should know the state of his mind, until it had undergone a thor-
ough change. Yet, in five minutes alter, so rapidly did he cool down,
that he told us he would rejoice if his friends were changed indeed, and
that as for himself, he would do anything that might change his heart.
He saw liimself to be left alone and forsaken by his friends, and resolved
to see them the next day and hear it from themselves before he could bs^
satisfied.
"'I am all alone, what shall I do?' was his cry that night before he
went to bed. I pressed him to pray, he said ' he could not.' I warned
him now, while the Spirit was striving with him, that it would be danger-
ous not to attempt it. It was late at niglit ; he hung to us, felt loth to
part, and dropped a tear as I bid him good-night and begged of him to
pray before he went to bed. I thought it prudent to let liis own mind
pursue its reflections vmtil he should see Codwise and McCoskry.*
*Mr. Hamilton Codv/ise and Bishop LIcCoskry of tiie Episcopal cliurcli in ilielilsan.
TURNING TO GOD. 27
On Wednesday they came to Mr. Duffieli's study, who begged them to
deal faithfully with George when he should call upon them that evening.
He knew that they were with the minister but took no notice of them.
His mother could discover notliing more than common in him, but was
pleased to hear him say that he would go to lecture that evening, if Mr.
]\IcC. would make the first prayer. When he returned from college he
looked solemn. In the evening he saw liis friends, and went with them to
lecture. He returned directly home, but said little ; told his companion,
Williams, ♦ that he believed every one of his friends and acquaintances
were either Christians or seriously exercised, and that he could not find
one, if he was so disposed, to carry on and sport witli as before.' His
mother mentioned that she had written to his father of the interest, but
had given no names. He thanked her and said, 'It will not be secret
long.' She asked ' If he thought them sincere.' * Oh yes.' ' Don't they
want you to go with them? ' His heart was too full to answer. When
his brothers and Williams returned from lecture they went straight to the
study, and I heard them ^Trestling in prayer together. George seemed
very solemn at family worship, but his mother tliought it was only be-
cause others were so. The next morning he was still solemn and tender,
and would allow himself to be spoken to, though none said anything to
him but his mother, and that but little. He took no supper the evening
before, nor did he breakfast the next morning. That day, Thursday, he
again saw Codwise and McCoskry, and they were faithful to him. He
did not come home till after dinner, then refused to eat. He had been
weeping and went to his own room much agitated. His mother followed to
restore his Bible and saw him sitting with a countenance like a con-
demned criminal. He remained by himself till near five o'clock when
he had to attend college prayers. IMcCartee saw iiun wandering alone,
and wanted him to go and drink tea at Prof. McClellan's ; he declined.
He then begged him to go to the Doctor's (Mason), but he still refused.
' That evening,' Mr. DulSeld says, * I was surprised to find him at
the place appointed for meeting anxious x-ersons. I addressed
myself to him, when he fell into my arms and poured forth
torrents of tears. His mind was pressed down with anxiety, but frse
from terror. After conversing with him in a smothered tone some time,
it appeared as if a gleam of hope darted across his mind. I stated the
numerous encouragements that he had to seek the God of Jacob. His
fv^elings gushed forth in an exr.ression of confidence, though but faint,
28 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
and it thrilled as with an electric shock through the whole roum. The
tempest of his mind, he said, had been somewhat lulled to rest. We
walked home together, talking about his views and feelings all the way,
and when we came to the door, I proposed that we should quickly have
worship and retire to rest, and that he should occupy my study. lie
told me that he had met a passage in Joel 2 : 12, 13, which encouraged
him, and he was determined to seek till he got the blessing. As late as
one o'clock that night we heard him wrestling over our heads. As he
lifted his voice in prayer, that passage crossed my mind, and I felt a con-
fidence that he would not seek in vain, ' Surely thou hast not said unto
the seed of Jacob, seek ye my face in vain.'
All hearts were deeply engaged for him, and he had been made the
subject of special prayer, the evening before, by the serious young men in
college. The next morning, Friday, he still continued solemn, and
weeping frequently. His mother pressed his dear face to her bosom
and asked, 'If he felt no better.' He answered 'Not much better.'
'What is the difficulty?' 'He feared that he would not be accepted.'
She told him she expected that would be the case. He had resisted the
Spirit on former occasions, and now the Lord was trying bim; but she
encouraged him to persevere, assuring liim of victory.
He ate no breakfast and passed to college. Having now been without
food for nearly two days, he was persuaded to take a little nourishment.
Immediately after he opened the Bible and pointed, says Mr. Duffieid,
to the passage in Joel wliich encouraged him, and in a low tone began to
converse with me about his feelings. I turned up several different pas-
sages in the Scriptures, but particularly Isa. 43 : 22-26. I observed,
these charges Go<l makes against you ; this is your character, but look
at the grace, v. 25. Behold your duty and privilege, v. 28. A shower
of tears fell instantly, and wetting his Bible soiled the page. Precious
memorial ! I asked him to retire to my study. For an hour we con-
versed about his exercises, until being crowded down with evidences in
his favour, he could no longer doubt the work of God. I led him to the
throne of grace, and poured out my heart in thankfulness to God. His
heart seemed ready to break. As I rose from my knees I told liim of
necessary business, and though it was painful to my feelings to leave
him, yet I must go. He then caught me by the hand and said, ' Oh no,
my dear brother George, you must not go till I, too, return thanks to
God.' He then bowed and prayed, and his heart was led forth in the
TURNING TO GOD. 29
strongest and most vivid exercises of faith. * Thou wilt hear me, O
God, when I cry unto thee. Thou hast said, Ask and ye shall receive.
Lord, I have done so and I claim thy promise. Thou hast the price of
my soul, the blood of thy Son, and thou delightest in judgment over
mercy. It is thy darling attribute, for before mercy could be manifested,
justice must be satisfied. I therefore claim the pardon of my sins, not
for mine own sake, but for the sake of thy dear Son.'
Such were some of his expressions of fsiith. He continued in the same
strain for some time, and then made a full dedication of himself to God,
prayed to be furnished with the armor of God, to be perfected, strength-
ened, stablished ; to be made a devoted servant of Christ ; to be em-
ployed and made eminently successful in winning souls to Christ ; to be
enabled to endure all the fatigue and toils of the way and receive, at
last, a crown of glory. His heart too, was earnest in prayer, for the
work of God among us, for the conversion of sinners ; especially that
God would bless brother McC. and myself, for the work to which we had
been called, and make us successful and reward us richly for our labours
of love. One of his expressions of faith struck me with great force. He
addressed God as * the God of liis father, the God of his mother, the God
of his sisters, the God of his brothers, the God of all his friends, and
claimed him as his own God and Redeemer.' His prayer carried with it
to my mind the most overpowering evidence of being wrought in his
heart by the Spirit of God. When we rose from our knees, we could
neither of us speak, but fell into one another's arms and embraced as
hroiliers in Christ. It seemed as if we could not part. Oh, it was a
moment of exquisite joy. Heaven let fall upon us some of its own
bliss, and our hearts exulted in the Lord our God. From that time, he
has manifested the most striking change. It is literally true, ' old things
have passed away and all things have become new.' Who can refuse to
give all the glory to God, and acknowledge liis work.''
Thus terminated a glorious victory of Almighty grace.
Mr. DufiSeld's house had been named " Happy Retreat '^
and it was now happy indeed. He hastened to Mrs. Bethune's
room, his face bathed in tears of joy and cried, " Oh ! dear
mother, George is a new-born soul." Angels carried
the good news to heaven on the 22d November, 1822.
30 BIEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
It is impossible to describe the emotions which filled those
praying and anxious, though long baffled and disappointed,
yet never wearied nor hopeless, and now successful parents.
Mrs. Bethune writes :
"And no-w O Lord, what can we, his parents, say. For thy ser-
vants' sake, and accordmg to thine own heart hast thou done all this
greatness in making known all these great tilings. O Lord God,
there is none like unto thee, neither is there any God beside thee, ac-
cording to all that we have heard with our ears. And what one natio7i
in the earth is like thy people, like Israel whom God went to redeem to
be his own people. And now, O Lord God, let the thing that thou hast
spoken concerning thy servants and concerning their house, be estab-
lished forever, and do as thou hast said. Now, therefore, let it please
thee to bless the house of thy servants that it may be before thee forever,
for thou blessest, O Lord, and it shall be blessed forever. Amen and
Amen."
A story has been current amongst Dr. Bethune's friends,
that this interesting event occurred while both his parents
were absent from him, and that they were engaged in be-
moaning his hopeless condition and their unanswered prayers,
when the postman's knock was heard, bringing the joyful
news of his conversion. The above narrative will show that
it has no foundation in truth, as his mother was all the time
at Carlisle, an attentive and careful observer of her son's
progress. Neither was his father at all despondent, but
with that wise forecast of faith which is often so remarkable,
thus wrote on September 29 : " My mind has been exer-
cised for the salvation of my dear son. At times I feel such
nearness to the throne of grace with this petition, and such
an assurance of hope, that it would seem as if the blessing
were nigh at hand." Again, on November 25, when he has
received the news of young Mason's death and that there is
a little religious interest,and while his whole heart is en-
gaged that his son may be a partaker of the hoped-for
grace, he records :
TUFiNING TO GOD. 31
" I have had of late, at times, amid all my fears for
George, some sweet and secret intimations of expected
mercy from my gracious God." And thus he was encour-
aged to plead more closely, more Lelievingiy, more perse-
veringly, and more fervently that a new heart might be
given.
The new convert, having obtained a calmer state, penned
the following to his father : —
"Carlisle, Nov. 2G, 1822.
It was my intention to have written ycu sooner, Lut the duties which
devolved upon me at the death of my dear friend, James Mason, and
subsequently to that, the anxiety I felt to attain to that state in which I
could meet death with resignation and hope, have so occupied my time
and disturbed my mind that I could not bring my thoughts sufficiently
together. But now, having, I trust, found a sure foothold of faith in the
blood of my Saviour, and having obtained the consequent joy and peace
cf mind, I feel as if it was my duty to write you, not only as a father in
the fiesh, but as one who is a joint heir with me in the salvation of
Christ. You will no doubt wish to knoAV what occasioned the thought-
less and wicked son you left, to have turned his thoughts on such sub-
jects. I will give you an account of its beginning and progress. On
Saturday, James Mason died. In the evening we met in the Belles
Lettres Hall to form some resolutions as a tribute of respect to his
memory. Then I felt sad and solemn at our loss. On Sabbath morn-
ing, McCartee preached an excellent sermon, but it reached not my
hard heart, though bowed down, as it were, with grief. Sabbath after-
noon, we followed him to his long home, and in the graveyard, though
sobbing and weeping, I felt not the address which the soIem.n scene pre-
sented to my mind. Monday passed as usual, and Tuesday, until the
evening when brother George and McC. came home and told me that
Codwise, McCoskry, Cahoone, Gregg, A. Labagh, Samuel Boyd, and
some others were seeking the way to salvation. First, I felt mad that
they should be so foolish, as I thought. But it gave way to a deeper
feeling of wonder, and then my love to Codwise made me think he must
be sincere. And that night found me, for the first time of my life, as I
can recollect, praying fervently. I fc4t as if my friends were going, and
82 TvlEMOIR OF GEO. V: , BETIIUXE, D. D.
that I could not and shor.ld rxot stay beliind. The next daj' I bridled my
feelings until evening, -when I v/ent to lecture, and after lecture Codwise
walked with me and advised, and that night again found me earnestly
engaged for the salvation of my soul. Thursday evening, I went to the
room v.^iiere the inquirers mct> and I went out lighter and seemingly
more happy than when I entered. That night I wrestled hard, and said
that I would wrestle like Jacob until the break of day, and that God
should not go until he blessed me. But ah ! I became fatigued, and went
to sleep. 33ut God did not forget his part of the engagement, he did bless
rae. On Friday evening I was rejoicing in the love of the Son of God.
Oh, how dear does that blood appear to me now, wliich I have so often
trampled under foot. It seems as if I would sufier anything to promote
the glory of Christ's Idngdom, and the interests of his church. It seems
to m.e that the four years which must intervene before I can proclaim
that gospel to sinners wliich has saved my soul, is a very long timxO.
Temptations afSict me, doubts still harass me, but the love of Christ,
like the sun among clouds, disperses all the darkness. I think I can rely
firmly and steadfastly for salvation on tlie Saviour's atonement. I be-
lieve, I can never be cast out. His promises are very comfortable, es-
pecially those which speak of God's being the God of his people's chil-
dren. The verse, however, wliich ga^ve the most comfort in my da,rkest
hours, is in the second chapter of Joel. 'Turn unto me with all your
heart,' &c. I complied with the letter and spirit, I trust, and hoped God
would do liis part, and I was not deceived. He received me into his
fold and nursed me, weak and trembling, in his arms. And I trust he
will keep me in his fold, and if I should stray, that he Avill pursue me
and constrain me to come back. Pray for me, my dear father, that I
enter not into temptation, and if the devil should tempt, that I say to
him, ' Get tliee behind me.' Lindsey is, I hope, coming out clear and
sure. Codwise and McCoskry like old Christians, Cahoone hoping and
comforted, and your own son rejoicing with fear.
Your son and brother I trust, in Christ,
Geo. TV. Betuune."
An interesting coincidence was, that about the same time
Miss Mary Williams, to whom during- the last summer,
lie had frequentl}^ read the Word of God when she lay upon
a bed of sickness, gave her heart to God and made public
TURNING TO GOD. 33
confession of faith. This occurred without any concert of
action between them, and was not discovered till years
later.
His father makes this grateful comment :
"Thus the dear youth who was dedicated by his parents to the sacred
office, in humble faith in God's promise and power, at the season of his
natural birth, was enabled to dedicate himself also, at the hour of his
spiritual birth. Amazing grace ! unmerited goodness ! Blessed word
on which our blessed God has caused us to hope. He is faithful that
promised. He also will do it. Thine be all the glory. Amen ! "
Indeed it was an occasion of thanksgiving to many ;
the youth had a great power of attaching friends, and
letters came from every quarter rejoicing over his happiness.
The Rev. Dr. McCauley informed his mother that her son had
often been a subject of prayer with him, and she writes :
"■ Bacon, Ward, Sommerfield, Romeyn,* Caldwell, your dear
grandmother, and still dearer father, all that praying breath
spent for you ; it will be difficult for you to tell who is your
spiritual father, so many have been interested in you."
It will be seen that his warm, grateful nature was burning
with desire to carry out his father's dedication and do some-
thing for Jesus, and that it was a great trial that years of
preparation were demanded before he could proclaim the
riches of Christ. As far as he had opportunity he commenced
to plead for his Saviour, addressing some of his old compan-
ions at Columbia College. His epistles called forth a remon-
strance from his friend. Smith P^'^ne, whose heart had ex-
perienced a change about the same time, but who thought
that Bethune acted with indiscretion. Here the young pro-
fessor finds himself beset by different religious theories in
the person of his young friends, Pyne and Kirk. Pyne
* The family during his minority attended tjie Cburch under the care of Dr. J. B.
Romeyn, in Cedar Street.
34 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
considers it obtrusive thus to address his friends, asking them
to turn from their evil ways. He puts him on his guard,
and warns Bethune against enthusiasm. He does not
mean that elevated love of God which every true Christian
feels, but that impatience of human frailty and exclusive at-
tention to particulars which degenerates into fanaticism.
" Nothing,^^ he says, " is more attractive than unaffected and
unobtrusive piety, nothing more repulsive than a gloomj^,
pragmatical spirit which would deprive man of the innocent
enjoyments with which God has surrounded him. For my part
I never enjoj^ed society, conversation, plays and parties so
much as I do now, but novv^ I take them all in moderation. I
surfeited myself formerly, I made them my first object, now
merely as occasional relaxations from more weighty pursuits."
Mr. Kirk writes, '' Be faithful to the souls of sinners. Kemem-
ber the pit from whence you were digged ; all sinners are as
you once were, they need your prayers and your warnings.
It is in the performance of this duty I have found the most
encouragement. There has been a reaction upon my soul.
You have entered upon a new life ; your companions, your
pursuits, and your amusements are all changed. The Chris-
tian should always have his taste elevated so far above the
beggarly elements of the world that they will be as bitter
herbs in his mouth ;'' and then adds severe views of Chris-
tian duty. Thus at the commencement of his religious life were
presented the two extreme views of practice, from friends
equally attached and sincere. It was his duty to choose
that part, to which he adhered through life, the happy mean.
He could not be conformed to the world, neither could his
Christianity assume the form of asceticism.
It is fair to state that both friends were equall}^ rejoiced
at his religious change Vvhile each offered different views of
TUKNING TO GOD. dO
practice. But wliatever might be exterior influences, he went
steadily on in tlie course of Christian duty. His sister
wrote, " Dear George keeps very steady ; we hear no more
of ' Old King Cole ; ' but last night he was singing ' what
think ye of Christ ! ' His father, whom he visited during
the holidays, says :
"He has dehghted the hearts of his dear mother and myself by tl-e
solemnity, devotion and sincerity of his demeanor. He manifests in-
deed the power of our God in the new creation of his soul. Last evening
we had a meeting of several parents of sons awakened at Carlisle to
declare unitedly one thanksgiving to the Lord, and to supplicate his
continued grace. George Bethune, Samuel Boyd, Jr, and George Lind-
say Campbell were present, tliree youthful representatives of the con-
verts at Carlisle. On being questioned, they acknowledged the happi-
ness they enjoyed by their change of state, and in the privilege of pouring
out their hearts to God in prayer, that Christ was precious to their souls."
Again. *' Yesterday morning our beloved son left us. Delightful in-
deed was his visit. Everybody in the house remarked the happy change
he has undergone ; no anxiety now about food or dress, no fretfalncss,
no empty wishes, no murmurings, no vain boastings, all seemed joy and
peace in believing, his soul thirsting for the love of God."
^'He was steadily attendant on prayer-meetings, and though
so young' a Christian, he was so solicited to pray as to make
the concluding prayer at Mr. Morse's school-room at the
Thursday evening meeting. It is said to have been simple, fer-
vent and unaffected. It produced much feeling and interest,
being so manifest a proof of the power of God in turning a
heart of stone to a heart of prayer. I was not present, or I
would probably have prevented his being called upon to
pray.''
'' Your conduct," said his mother, " I have reason to be-
lieve was blessed to all under our roof, even poor Eichard
has never been absent from worship since." Thus went on
36 MEMOIR OF GEO. V,\ BETHU^'E, D. D.
the 3'oung convert, his heart all alive in the Lord's service,
instant in prayer, seeking his young companions, his room me-
lodious with psalms and spiritual songs, and gentle and loving
towards all. He followed his mother's advice! " I do not say
you ought not to be cheerful, nay, you may even indulge in
a little fun, provided you do not descend to buffooner}^ or
romping.'' He was a cheerful, and yet an earnest Chris-
tian. About this time he published in the Religious Miscel-
lany the following expression of his faith and love, not so
bad for a lad of eighteen : —
Full many a star of purest light
Beams on the midnight wanderer's sight,
V.l'ien -winter howls not through the air
Nor tempests veil them with despair.
But oh ! there is a brighter gem.
The lovely star of Bethlehem ;
In vain the storm winds wildly roll,
Its heavenly light vnll cheer my soul,
Will pierce the veil of deep despair,
And bid me trust my Pilot's care.
Eull many a Sower of beauty blooms
And fills the air with sweet perfumes,
And smiles upon us as we stray
Along our devious, doubtful way,
But when the sunbeams scorch our plain
They wither ne'er to bloom again ;
But vain the beauties these disclose
To those which sliiue on Sharon's rose ;
It blooms, though blasting sunbeams glow
Or winter sheds Ms fieecy snow,
And cheers the Aveary pilgrim's eye
While other flowers in darkness lie.
When pale affliction's fainting child
In sadness roams the desert wild,
TUIINING TO GOD. 37
"When thirsts have bound his parched tongue,
And e'en forbade tlie cheering song,
With joy he views the fountain flow.
Whoso waters can assuage his woe.
But summer's heat, with scorching beam,
May dry the waters of the stream ;
And thus the Pilgrim's anxious eye
rinds but the channel dark and dry.
But there 's a fountain pure and bright
Which always flows in living light.
Which, draAvn from Jesus' blessed veins.
Can quench our thirst and cleanse our stains.
Yes, Saviour ! in thyself, divine.
These heavenly beauties, graces, sliine.
Thou art our staff, our help, our joy,
Our hope, which time can ne 'er destroy.
May I within thy covenant dwell
Forever, great Immanuel !
JUBAT..
*' Amen ! my beloved son," responds his rejoicing father, but tiien he
acts the critic, " I like Jubal very well. Like yourself, however, I tliink
he has now and then a line or two needlessly long for the other lines,
which, unless read with ' a quickstep,' will mar the smoothness of the
poetry. Tell Jubal, therefore, to adjust the chords of liis lyre more stu-
diously, and the sweetness and strength of its sounds will be heard
together."
naving" become established in the faith of Jesus, and
having given evidence of sincerity in a consistent life, he
now proposed to make public confession, and unite with
the Church in holy communion, which was done on the 9th
of February, 1823, in the Presbyterian church of Carlisle,
amidst a goodly company of new converts. On the same
day his parents were communing at their own Zion. " No
tongue can tell the joy of his mothers heart and mine
38 JiEilOin or GEO. Vv'. BETIIUXE, D. D.
on our communion Sabballi, realizing, as we did, tliatitwas
dear George's communion Sabbath also a,t Carlisle, when
for the first time he professed his love to the dear Re-
deemer.'' In the college an opposition to the revival
had grown up, and some of those who had been interested
went back to the world. This awakened anxiety for his
welfare, and called forth the liveliest exhortations from his
mother. Having urged him to constant and fervent prayer,
she adds : —
" Eemember that many eyes will be upon you, some anxiously looking
for the fruits of the revival at Carlisle, in your spiritual mindedness, cir-
cumspect -Nvalk and conversation ; others will vratch for your halting ; not
only the -world, but some professors of religion, and who I believe are
on the foundation, but who are jealous of revivals, and say, ' Y\'e will see, if
these young converts hold on.' Oh my beloved son, wound not the dear
Saviour, and Cliristians, by your untender walk and conversation."
An exhortation follows upon the extravagant use of
money. From this, and similar advice of his father, it
would appear that the young Christian had not yet learned
the value of money, or did not feel the responsibility^ of
treasuring this talent for the Lord's service. His father
had just assumed much additional labor and care, that he
might have the means to assist those of his family who
were called to labor in word and doctrine.
The remainder of his Senior Year passed without any
event of special interest. He graduated in the ensuin.g
summer, and the Commencement gave opportunity to in-
dulge the muse in a poem on the '' Power of Fancy,'' an
effort not wanting in strength or melody. Opening with its
praises, he then depicts its sadder side, quoting Chatterton
and his lines, " Mj^ broken Ij^re,'' and thus proceeds : — .
TUnXIXG TO GOD. 39
"And yet who would not be thine ardent cliild
Fancy ! high dame, with eye and aspect wild ?
Who would not follow thee, tho' on his youthful head
Life's wrathful vials all tlieir vengeance shed ?
What tho' the thorn oft overspreads thy path,
And the rude tempest shades it with its wrath ;
Yet there are flowers so sweet, so beautiful,
T 'were worth an age of woe, one wreath to cull.
What the' the world, while still it loves the swell
Of liis wild numbers, leave the bard to dwell
In silent loneliness, and plodding schools
Despise the eccentric wanderer from tlieir rules ;
He needs their friendship not, liis lip is curl'd
In proud contempt of an ungrateful world ;
He seeks his friends axuong the mountains high,
And the bright jewels of the azure sky."
His lyrical capacity was already acknowledged ; Mr.
Kirk requests copies of his poetical effusions, as pledges of
his future usefulness to the Cliurch of God, in aiding the
flow of religious feeling and exalting the standard of sacred
poetry. The Rev. Wm. Thorn of England, publishing a
book on the Sabbath, aSxed one of Mr. G. Bethune's hj^mns
at the end. About this time was commenced a correspondence
with the Rev. Mr. Prust, an independent clergyman of Bris-
tol, England, which was tho basis of a long friendship.
During the summer he was a frequent visitor and great
comforter to Miss Cornelia Brackenridge, a cultivated young
person, skilful in music, who died in early life. Thus his
father addressed him on his eighteenth birthday :
*'I love to see you searching the Word of God, and loaning on that; it
is the only source of wisdom, humility, comfort, reproof and establisli-
ment of heart. I would wish my beloved son to save himself much of
my trouble by a close examination of the Word of God, and by a firm,
unwavering grasp of the covenant of God in early life, that he may fi.-.d
40 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
them to be a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. ISIy chief safety
amidst the storms of life has been owing to my firm faith in the Word
of God, casting myself unreservedly on its promises, and pleading them
fervently at the throne of grace, in the name of my blessed Lord and
Saviour. I have had many answers to prayer, which I have regarded
with astonishment, yet not often in the time and way I had looked for
them, but in a much better way and time, so that often the heart has, as
it were, cried out in response to the gracious declaration of God, * O
Israel thou hast destroyed thyself, but in me is thy help.' "
SEMINARY. 41
CHAPTER III.
SEMINARY. — VISIT TO THE SOUTH.
The Commencement of Dickinson College, while it
brought its joys and opened its brilliant hopes, still had
a trial. The young men, who had taken sweet counsel to-
gether and been united so tenderly in the love of Jesus,
were now to separate. They belonged to different denom-
inations and would select various places for theological
study. Mr. Cod wise, the most intimate friend of j^oung
Bethune, was attached to the Episcopal Church, and this,
with the added influence of Mr. Pyne and other associates
at Columbia, would incline him in a similar direction. But
his father's wish was law with him, and it was determined
that he should enter the Seminary at Princeton. A season
of relaxation from study was granted which was spent, in
part, among the pleasant scenes at Salem, where he read
Paley's Philosophy, Watts on the Mind, the works of Lord
Kames, and various poets. He was much pleased with the
Avritings of Dr. Alex. Proudfit, and purposed to make his
Practical Godliness a frequent companion in future. These
books had been seen before, but had never been read as they
deserved. The student now develops and seeks to recover
wasted opportunities. He was appointed to declaim at the
AVashington Adelphi Porum. Later, he accompanied his
father, whose health was impaired, on a tour through Penn-
sylvania. Soon the time for labor returned and his father
makes the following record :
42 MKMOir. OF GEO. Vr. BETHUNE, D. D.
" On the 5th of November I -svent -with ray beloved son George (early,
frequently, and fervently devoted to the service and glory of my God),
and five of his pious, youthful companions, in order to place them in
the Theological Seminary at Princeton, New Jersey, where Dr. Alexan-
der, Dr. Miller, and the Rev. Mr. Hodge are the able, faithful and pious
teachers and professors. In a period like the present, when gaiety and
fashionable amusements fascinate the youth of our city, my dear son
had his share of example and temptation to plunge into these courses.
My mind felt deep anxieties lest he should slirink from the closer studies
of the Theological School, and the corresponding exercises of serious
and thoughtful piety which attach to tliis manner of life. The Lord, who
knows every heart, is my witness that all my conduct towards liim,
according to my limited capacity and slender stock of vasdom, has been
directed to lead him, imperceptibly by Mm, in such a way as to preserve
him from worldly temptations, and to cherisli and keep alive in him, the
holy impressions of love to God, and consecration to his service. The
journey to Carlisle, undertaken with this view as to him, has liad, I
trust, a happy effect. The scenes of his first feelings of spiritual joy
seemed to re-animate his soul ; his communion with liis dear youthful
companions, converts with himself to righteousness in the sweet revival
at Carlisle, refreshed his spirit ; the solemn and awakening circumstan-
ces of the death of so many of his acquaintances, and more especially
the sudden decease of his lively young friend Ellen Mc Kinney, of Har-
risburg, were calculated to make a deep impression on his warm and
youthful feelings, and to exalt, in his view, the importance and value of
the religion of Jesus Christ, which purifies and sanctifies enjoyment in
this life, and insures eternal happiness in that wliich is to come. Trem-
bling, hoping, leaning upon the divine power, kindness and faithfulness
of my covenant. Almighty God, I went vrith my boy to the school of the
prophets, and blessed be His glorious name, He was not unmindful of His
promises. I was truly astonished to see with what calmness, decision
and sobriety of mind he entered the sacred place. The chaste solemnity
of his manner, during the many religious exercises in which we were
engaged for the five days I stayed with liim, delighted my heart, and I
could, at times, think that the shining of his countenance improved by
the settled inward devotion of the heart. He seemed, when we parted,
affected to tears by my tender care of liim, (I being the only parent who
went to tlie spot to settle their sons in the college rooms, which were to
SKMINAHY IJFE. 43
be furnished for three years,) but I was most pleased with his remarks
that he trusted, above all, in a higher than an earthly parent, to his Father
in heaven, for all that he stood in need of for life and duty. Rich were
my parental feelings on that occasion, and rich were his filial feelings
also. I thank my heavenly Fatlier for this encouraging commencement,
this first movement to lend my child to the Lord. I will praise Jehovah
for all that is past, and praise him for all that is to come."
His experience in tlie Seminary docs not prove very
satisfactory. Dr. Miller's lectures are very interesting (on
Chronology) ; and the Sunday conference is interesting and
instructive, discussing-, What are the best means of render-
ing our intercourse and communion profitable to each other?
But the Ilebrevv is dull. Ilis letters to friends are full of
lamentations over this study. One replies, Hebrew presents
" one parallax " after another, if not in name, in nature, at
least in one respect, difficulty ; the same report comes from
the Episcopal Seminary. This should not be held as a proof
of distaste for study, but is to be attributed to the imperfect
manner in which the language was taught, very few of the
theologians of that day being good Hebrew scholars. A
disagreeable feature in the Seminary was an extreme cen-
soriousness and captiousness ; and '' some of those men
whom we understand to be quite lax and moderate abroad,
turn out to be the most pious, consistent and devoted
Christians among us." The mode of life was displeasing to
one who had alwaj^s enjoyed the comforts of a refined home.
'' Where can I, a poor desolate stranger, find a kind female
to use a needle for me. My splendid needle and thread
housewife, if well stocked, would be useful to me." His
letters remind us of the scene pictured iu his address before
the Univcrsit}^ of Pennsylvania:
44 MEMOirw OF GEO. W. BETllUNE, D. D.
"How different is the commons table, often ill served, from the pleas-
ing family board with its natural courtesies and confiding interchange
of thought ! No lady's eye overlooks them as they scramble like boors
for the hasty meal. No woman's tidy hand has arranged their wardrobes,
and no approving smile rewards and encourages decency of dress and
carriage. A college student's wardrobe ! What a collection it is of toeless
stockings, buttonless wristbands, and uncared-for rents, some mothers
can tell who have examined the trunks they saw packed so neatly a few
months before. A college student's room, shared perchance, with one
to whom neatness is an unknown quality ; its littered, unscrubbed, uncar-
peted floor; its confused and broken furniture; its close atmosphere,
heated by a greasy stove, and redolent of tobacco ; its bed a lounging
place by day, whose pillows have never been shaken or sheets smoothed
by other than the college porter, who intermitted for such ministry the
carrying of wood, or the blacking of boots ; its dim panes festooned with
ancient cobwebs, through which the noonday sun looks yellow as through
a London fog; it is indescribable as chaos. Wo to him whom sickness
seizes in such an abode ! I^ind nurses he may have ; but how rough !
With what heavy tread and strange notions of the materia medica!
Vainly does the fevered eye look around for mother, sister, or time-hon-
ored servant ! Vainly does the fevered thirst crave the grateful drink
their hands once pressed to his lips, when he was sick at home ! There
is none to sprinkle the fragrant spirit on his brow, or after bathing his
feet in the attempered water, to wipe them dry and wrap them warm.
Alas ! poor youth ; he has a mother, he has sisters, he has a home,
where kindness might have made sickness a luxury, but they have sent
him away to suffer among strangers."
Doubtless this picture was drawn from sad experience ;
and in answer to complaints, his prudent father wrote :
'♦ My hopes of the stability of your future character are strong. As
the boy departs and the man approaches, your judgment, which I have
generally found radically good, will become more decisive in itself, more
operative on your outward actions, and a more steady regulator of your
inward thoughts and temper of mind. Growth in grace will assist the
SEMINAIiY LIFE. 45
improvement of this excellent quality ; and secret prayer, with a practi-
cal study of the Word of God, will soon ripen it to maturity. A steady
exercise of a sound judgment Avill calm the feelings, subdue restlessness,
and those constant cravings of the unsettled mind, which form its secret
scorpion lash of irritations and restlessnesses. In moulding our own char-
acter, the first obstacles to be overcome are our own besetting sins.
Watch your own heart, my son, as your Avorst enemy ; learn to trace its
windings to deceive. Eesolve to be contented to act witU judgment,
under present inconveniences; and very soon you will find a steady
peace, a holy triumph, with a happy consciousness you are fighting the
good fight of faith with success, a comfort far beyond what change of sit-
uation would afford you."
However good the advice, the youth was never at rest
until he had exchanged the rough fare and many annoyances
of the Commons, for the comfort of a pleasant and respect-
able family ; and surely no sensible man can blame him.
Books are sought for : Jahn's Archeology, Gerard's Insti-
tutes, Dr. Marsh's Lectures, Macknight on the Epistles,
Stapferi Theologia.
Jan. 1824. At the holidays he returned home and " was
greatly improved already, by his short stay at the Seminary.
His parents were truly delighted by his conversation."
Having formed closer habits of study, he found it neces-
sary to observe carefully rules of diet, living upon milk and
vegetables and eating little meat. In the same view he took
rapid exercise on horseback, so that far from being a fast
liver, his habits were carefully formed to guard against the
corpulency that v/as natural to him.
In Feb. 1824 he had "just begun the study of Theology ;
the studies in which Ire had been engaged were merely pre-
paratory, and is glad in feeling that he is actually entering
on the grand study." He was more impressed with the
46 MEMOIR OF GT:0. W. EETIIU2sE, d. d.
value of prayer. Speaking of the gifts of Mr. Wilberforce
to the Seminary, he adds : —
" What ca iDlessing Ave inherit in tlie prayers of so many good saints !
If the effectual fervent prayer of 'one made righteous' availeth much,
I rejoice to hear of good people praying. Oh, that we might be more
engaged in prayer. We cannot weary our God, why then should we
become weary ? His arm is not shortened, why then should we fear to
trust it? O ! for the faitii of Jacob to wrestle and prevail ! O ! for the
faith of the apostles ! ' I know that my Redeemer livetli' cannot be so
earnestly asserted, even in these days of light, as in tlie time of Job. —
Well may we beg now, ' Lord teach us to pray.' I find my warmth in
prayer increase in a ratio to the attention, with which I perform it and
all other religious duties, and I think I can feel my warmth increase as
I am more engaged in prayer. Prayer seems to bend God down to us
and to elevate us to Him."
And then in devout gratitude he makes thi:3 donation to
his parents, praying that they might be strengthened for the
responsible station they held in society ; praying for
them who had so often prayed for him. His fondest
thoughts gathered about home, he pictures the happy familj'',
once more in the social circle, enjojdng themselves in the
recollections of ''xiuld Lang Syne" and thinks "if that va-
cant chair were filled, the cheerful laugh might be swelled
still louder and Richard sent still oftener for buttered toast.''
About this time, the quiet of Princeton was invaded by a
young Episcopal friend who v/as '' so high, so very high
church, why Dr. , hanging to St. John's steeple is
nothing to this fellow, who has got on the weathercock and
stood on tiptoe." But while there was the closest intimacy
between him and the young Presbyterian, heart often beat-
ing against heart, undoubtedly theology was the occasion of
much grave debate, and each polemic was of his own opinion
still.
SEMINARY LIFE. 47
Before the year is half over an appetite for study awakens ;
and, strang-e to tell, for the Ilebrcw. He hopes for a time
of reviving : —
*' The increasing earnestness of prayer, and the reviving of Christian
graces, seem like the slight rustling before tlie storm. I feel as if I was
better in my religious feelings than I have been. Not that I improve as
I ought in Christian grace, but I feel more love for the duties of the
closet ; more desire for close communion with that God from whose
p;!ths I liave long shamefully and ungratefully wandered. The world,
though it still has deep hold on my affections, I think I can reject with
more {irmness than formerly. But oh ! my motlier, what a heart I
liave ! IIow prone to wander ! So enthusiastic in literature, in music, in
j>!itriotism, and yet so cold and so dead to Ilim v/ho should be to me, the
chiefest among ten thousand and the one altogether lovely. When
called to serve an earthly friend, I have been active and earnest; but
called to follow Ilim who sticketh closer than a brother, I have sneaked
to a distance so that it can be scarcely said whether I follow Him or not.
0, thnt the Lord would descend and take possession of my heart. It is
not a fit dwelling for the Lord of Hosts, so defiled with sin and evil
thoughts ; but the blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin. O, that he
would cleanse it for himself, that he would root out all uncleanliness
and help me to tear the dearest idol from my heart and give it to him
alone. I think I feel more of sense of duty in study than formerly. I
regarded it then as a mere worldly requirement, now I think I may be
sovf^ing the seed of a harvest which may add to the granary of heaven,
through the blessing of God attending my labours in the ministry. —
Pray for me, my dear mother, pray. I need prayers. Prayers from a
fiiithful spirit will avail much. Prayer opens heaven, the poet says.
Oh, what a blessed privilege."
Up to this period he may have amused himself in litera-
ture, and have gone through the college recitations ; even his
father complained of his indolent habits, and a young- friend
fLincies him, " A fat laughing youth, seated in a big cushioned
chair with feet cocked up over a rousing fire, segar in his
mouth, and hands in the breeches pockets," the picture of
48 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUIVE, D. D.
comfort and merry enjoyment ; but from this date there is a
change.
All his letters speak of pleasure in study ; he wrote,
"during the whole of this week, not a single evening is
without its appropriate Society ; '' and it was his con-
stant cultivation of such reunions, that ripened his powers
of extempore speaking. He prepared theological essays
on one of the most difiBcult metaphysical subjects ; while
Hebrew is still a bug-bear, it suffers from the assaults of
violence. He says, "I never sat down to work with so
much zest ; " and there are records of immensely hard
days' study. He became a contributor to a monthly maga-
zine, published in Philadelphia under the signature of
''Orion."
But in August, 1824, a great trial drew near him :
*'I have been waiting with intense anxiety for news of my dear father.
Often docs my prayer ascend to heaven for him, and often my bed is
wakeful with my thoughts ofliim. Never did I feel him, however dear as
he was before, so dear as now; all his kindness, patience and forbear-
ance with me rise to ray view. Now I think I see hira as he was once,
healthful and vigorous ; then weak and fatigued, yet always with the
sweet smile so peculiarly his own. In my college days, I have often
written with all the romantic fervour of youth of a father's affection and
filial love, but now those descriptions however high wrought fall short
of the reality, which is felt, not merely imagined. Yet what a glorious
and soul comforting thought, ' Like as a father pitieth his children, so
the Lord pitieth them that fear him.' How sweet to think that we are
in his hand and that his ear is always open to our cry. But then
tliougli these are sweet and encouraging thoughts, I feel myself apt to
forget my God and my dut}', and almost murmur against his righteous
judgments, and have to breathe the prayer of the sweet Milman,
' Hear all our prayer, hear not our murmurs, Lord,
And though our lips rebel, still make thyself adored.'"
SEMI>'AHY LIFE. 49
Alas I that valuable diary which has been quoted so
often, has been closed for some months ; the father has
written that he can do no more in correspondence than send
the necessary money ; he has sought health and strength
from different sources in vain, and God has determined to
take his faithful servant to himself. Never did son have
more reason to love and thank a parent, and seldom was
the debt of gratitude better repaid. The father had been a
pleasant companion ; although with him, religion was
the chief concern, and he had aimed first of all to lead him
to Jesus, yet he was a man of letters and paid his court to
the Muse, so that he could sympathize in literary progress
and the domestic conversations were adorned with tasteful
and witty discussions. Crying, " Let me go home, let me
go to my Saviour my race is run ; my work is done, let me
go," his wish was granted on the IStli of Septembe]-, 1824.
He had filled a larger sphere of usefulness than, is often al-
loted to laymen. One who observed him in active business
said, '' he looked all the time as serene as if he was sitting on
down.'' Mrs. Graham wrote, " Divie Bethune stands in my
mind, in temper, conduct and conversation, the nearest to the
gospel standard of any man or woman I ever kuev\r as intim-
ately. Devoted to his God, to his church, to his family,
to all to whom he may have the opportunity of doing good,
duty is his governing principle." Friends in England wrote
that a sweet savor attaches to the name of Bethune. His
dying words to his son were : " Preach the gospel, my son»
tell dying sinners of a Saviour, mind nothing else ; it is
all folly." Blessed be God for such an honorable, honored
parent. How much was due to his example, his faith and
his prayers. The following epitaph presents his son's
ideal :
50 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
In memory of Divie Beihune,
BORN AT DINGWALL, ROSSSHIRE, SCOTULND,
Died, Sept. 18, 1824, Aged, 53.
Thirty years of which he lived in the City of New York an honorable
merchant, a faithful citizen, a hospitable gentleman, and a de-
vout elder of Chrisfs Church. He spent his life in
serving God, and, for God's sake, his fellow-men.
^'Oh thai men would praise the Lord for His goodness"
This event brought upon him a new burden of responsibil-
ity. The correspondents of his father desired him to car-
ry on the business, and as it had been one of extensive repute
and great success, every worldly inducement pointed in
that direction. But all such solicitations he spurned, feel-
ing bound to follow the great profession to which he had
given himself. When urged to allow the use of his name, and
told that his refusal might ruin the business, his answer was,
"Though I throw away a fortune, I must obey the dying
commands of my father.''
But there was one care left to him, that of his widowed
mother, from which he did not shrink, but supported with
all the affection of his great manly heart, and thus he as-
sumed the task :
" I do hope and pray that God will enable me so to conduct myself,
that I may be a comfort and stay to my mother, and though my con-
science tells me that I have often wounded you and roused your anxiety
respecting me, and though I fear that the indiscretions and heedlessness
of youth may often prove detriments to my designs, yet, it is my firmest
and fondest resolution in a reliance on divine aid, to be indeed a son and
a prop to my widowed mother."
SEMINARY LIFE. 5^
Noble resolve, and most faithfully and lovingly was it
kept. When the session of the Seminary began, he was at
his post, his only regret being, that his mother was " seated
by a lonely hearth, with none to comfort, none to console."
Upon a visit, he became more impressed with her deso-
late condition, and proposed to sacrifice for her comfort
his privileges at Princeton :
"The path of duty appears to me very dark, wliether I should stay
here, absent from her whom it is my natural duty and still more my
fondest desire to protect and solace, or return to her to cheer, as far as
possible, her loneliness, at the expense of a very few advantages. Next to
my God's, I am my mother's. If by leaving P., I should necessarily in-
terrupt my studies and thereby delay my fitness for the responsible work
to which I am called, or if by leaving this I should necessarily deprive
myself of many advantages, which nowhere else could be found, the
path of duty would be clear, and God would order things as well with
you and better than if I were to act in direct contradiction. But the case
is not so. In New York, I should be able to prosecute my studies with
almost equal advantages. My access to books would be equally free
and unlimited, for the libraries of all the clergymen would be open to
me."
After arguing the subject at considerable length, ingen-
uously advocating a course which love and duty prompted,
with characteristic generosity, he concludes by making one
condition, that his friend Williams might be permitted to re-
main. " I am not so selfish as to wish to deprive others of
advantages which duty compels me to forego, or to wish
others to choose the path which I think I am bound to
tread." To this proposal his bereaved parent could by
no means consent; but it affords a fine illustration of that
filial affection which was so notable a trait of the man,
which cheered her darkest hours, and which never fainted
52 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
even in her days of cbildislmess, nor ceased until he had
closed her eyes in death.
Study was now vigorously pursued : and as evidence that
the theological course did not distract him from former
loves and elegant pursuits, he writes to a friend in England
about an edition of " Valpy's Classics,'' which was expect-
ed to reach one hundred volumes. A fellow student speaks
of his new parish as reminding him of auld lang syne :
*' When I sat at the doors of the cottages of my poor friends, taking a
smoke with the old women, I have thought of No. 22, in a large stone
building far, far away. The house was different, the company different,
the pipe, the tobacco, all different, still the associations were agreeable.
I am sure if I reflected upon anything with pleasure it was the recollec-
tions of the theological smoking association of which I had the honor to
be a member."
He alludes to the gift of the muse bestowed upon Be-
thune, which was confessed by all his young compeers, and
might have reached a much higher standard had it not been
restrained by a sense of the more serious and important
duties set before him.
Sensible of his advantages, there was about the young
man a certain uppish air, which called forth the following
rebuke from his careful parent :
"Pardon a mother's anxiety, my beloved son. Beware of trusting
in riches, and that vanity of heart which attends the possession of them.
I did not like to hear you talk so much of genteeliiy. Remember the
Scriptures, 'If any man would be great among you, let him be your
minister.' Xot many wise, not many noble are called, &c. Condescend to
men of low estate. "Who did the Great lledeemer choose for bis asso-
ciates? Fishermen, tanners. Nay, was he not to appearance the son
of a carpenter ? If any one in New York could boast of genteeliiy, it
was your father; even the great of this world were his relations; yet
even I, his bo3om friend, never heard him once attach any value to it.
SKIVIIXAUY LIFE. 53
and his first religious associcatcs were in the humblest walks in life.
The first prayer-meeting he joined, he was tlie only merchant among
them. A cartman, a stonecutter, a tailor, a carpenter, were the mem-
bers ; yet I have often heard him say, that by the mouth of one of these
men, his path of duty was made plain to him. You know how much he
vras respected by all ranks. Nobody ever said he kept low company.
Would you wish to become truly respectable in the eyes of the world?
Tollow your father's example."
He had a wise monitor.
About this time we date an intimacy with Dr. John 0.
Choules, afterwards the distinguished and witty Baptist
Minister, of Newport, E. I. In some way old Mr. Bethune
had done kindness to this young man, lately arrived from
England, and the debt of gratitude was repaid to the son,
with whom was maintained a cordial friendship.
Now it pleased the Lord to send upon his widowed pa-
rent much complication in business matters, attended with
considerable loss of property. She meets the trial like a
Christian, and her son " rejoices that she is enabled to
throw herself so confidently upon Plim who is alone able to
support. I trust that in all your distresses the Lord will
hear you, in the day of trouble the name of the God of
Jacob may defend you, send you help from the sanctuary,
and strengthen thee out of Zion.'^ With such good words
did these children of the covenant comfort each others*
hearts.
In February of this year there came another sorrow, in
the death of a beloved pastor, the Rev. Dr. J. B. Romeyn.
He died of a broken heart, from the slanders and repeated
attacks of persons in his own congregation. In his delir-
ium, he took a text and preached from it. " Let not your
hearts be troubled," &c., dispensed the communion, calling
54 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Mr. Bethune to " take the cup," and appealed to his jKBople
that he had been faithful to them, and was free from their
blood. The pious family mourned over his loss, as if one
of their own number had been stricken. Shortly after the
young theologian desires books from the dear Doctor's li-
brary. "If there are an}^ sets of Poole, Calvin, Jonathan
Edwards, the Biblia Critica, Turretin, John Howe, Jeremy
Taylor, Horslej^, Whitby, Milner's Church History ; the
German critics, Koppe, Kuinoel, Rosenmuller, Schultens, it
would be well to get them.'^
An event occurred in the summer vacation, which made
him "the happiest mortal on the face of the earth. '^ His
dear Mary yielded, with the sanction of her kind father, a
return for that attachment, which, from the days of his
boyhood, had ever bound him to her. He informs his
mother, with the delight of an enthusiastic lover :
**I shall leave you to draw the picture of my feelings as you please,
satisfied that no coloring would be too rich. To find that all those gay
dreams which brightened my boyhood, but wliich opening manhood
viewed as too much like enchantment to be real, are now realities ; to
be blest with the love of one so pure, so gentle, so lovely, yet so fir
above me in prospects, and not the least to find my dear mother satis-
fied with all, is what no thankfulness can express, no gratitude repay,
and of which none bnt God Avho knoweth the heart can estimate the
value. Life wears to me a new aspect ; new motives, new inducements,
new hopes, new enjoyments present themselves on every hand."
The prospect of this alliance gave much satisfaction to
his remaining parent, who welcomed the young lady as her
daughter, and as her son's first and only love :
" Now that both of you have given your hearts to the Lover of your
souls, and your attachment Avill be strengthened by religion, my full
heart overflows with thankfulness to that God who has granted my
' SEMINARY LIFE. 55
every wish for my beloved George, ' the only son of his mother, and she
a widovr.' I shall now close my eyes in peace ; my son and the chosen
of Ids heart have each sought the kingdom of Christ and his righteous-
ness, and the promise to them is, that all other blessings will be added."
The correspondence between these young Christians often
assumed a tone higher than that of ordinary love-mak-
ing:
" But why," he says, sympathizing in the continued illness of Miss
Williams, "but why seek the sorrowful influences of memory, Avhen
hope points cheerily onward, and like a good prophet speaks of days of
bliss, and hours of joy. Blessed be the man whose trust is in the Lord
his God ; and has not he, who spake as never man spake, promised to
the believing spirit, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the
world.' Be thy promise, Man of Sorrows, Lord of Glory, our comfort,
and may not our death, but our life, be the life of the righteous, and our
end be like his. Blessed with the promises of God, and each other's
love, we may challenge life to do its worst to mar our happiness. My
desire to do something for the honor and glory of my Master, is, I believe
and hope, true. I need not say, how much I desire the prayers of those
who love me. Pray for my humility, yet confidence in the discharge of
duty ; zeal, yet prudence ; tenderness, yet faithfulness in all my preach-
ing and pastoral duties ; for, next to God and his cause, my desire is that
I may not in any degree fail the hopes of one whose hopes will be linked
with mine, and who must share all my misfortunes, and all my suc-
cesses."
This engagement soon brought with it responsibility, and
led to an important change in his life. In the autumn, the
health of Miss Williams began to decline, and Dr. Post
advised that her life could only be saved by going to a
warm climate. Who should be her escort ? The youthful
lover could not resign the charge to another, so the con-
sent of his professors was obtained, the theological course
suspended in mid career ; he had been studying about two
years ; and a sum of money which had been carefully laid
56 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
aside by his futher for a trip to Europe, was devoted to a
wedding tour to the West Indies. The first plan was to go
to the South of France, but the very bad symptoms of the
invalid compelled a more speedy change. On Nov. 4, 1825,
the marriage was consummated, and soon the happy couple
sailed for Havana, in the ship Berlin.
Their groomsman, Mr. Bleecker, had been saved from
drowning at Rockaway, by young Bethune, at the risk of
his own life. He had been carried beyond his depth, and
as he could not swim, was helpless. The intrepid friend
caught him as he came up the third time, and brought him
near the bank, when the waves dashed them on the beach.
Bethune soon regained his powers, but it was with great
difficulty that Bleecker was restored.
The loss at Princeton was grievously lamented. It was
apprehended that the Round Table would go down, and the
Scandal Club become extinct, Mr. Green declaring himself
unable to support it without Bethnne's aid :
" The Professors were satisfied with the propriety of your conduct.
Mr. Hodge said but little, though by his smiles he expressed full appro-
bation. Dr. Alexander observed (in his own way), that the circumstan-
ces were very pecuUar, and spoke in very flattering terms of recommen-
dation, of your originality of mind, your readiness of thought, your tal-
ents as a speaker and preacher. Dr. Miller very gravely observed, ' that
by such short-sighted creatures as we are, it would be termed an unfor-
tunate occurrence, but he thought that if placed in the same situation,
he should not have acted otherwise, adding that, even in Cuba, one pos-
sessing Mr. Bethune's active and inquisitive mind, might avail himself
of many means of improvement from the opportunities of conversation
with learned Catholic Priests, and from the facilities of access to many rare
and valuable books. "
Princeton could then boast of many students who have
since become eminent. Dr. Edward N. Kirk was a resident
AVEST INDIES. 57
graduate, and Drs. Hutton, Dickinson, Jas. Alexander, Ers-
Idne Mason, of New York ; Bishop Mcllvaine of Ohio ; Dr.
Piumraer of Ya. ; Drs. T. L. Janeway, John W. Nevin of
Pa. Havana was reached, and the jihicc described :
" The first object which striltes the eye is a miserable looking pile,
called the Moro Castle. It stands upon a projecting rock on the north-
east side of the liarfcour. The long line of its fortifications continued by the
immense fortifications of the Cabanas, with its watch-tower, its loop-
holes and portals, give you a very tolerable idea of the castles of the
olden time. Passing thence up the small river which forms the entrance
of the harbour, some two or three thousand yards , you anchor in the
harbour of St. Christopher or Havana. On every side there are moles of
immense strength, rendering the to^vn completely inaccessible from the
sea, by any hostile force however great. On the right is the Castel de
la Habana, from which the place derives its name. The circumstances
are as follows : In the year 1512, Christopher Columbus discovered the
Island of Cuba as he was endeavoring to trace the course of the Gulf
Stream. Landing some miles to windward, he followed the shore until
his notice was attracted by the harbor of this now flourishing town. In
prosecuting his journey, he was opposed by some of the Indians, who
afler a little resistance fled until they came to a clump of wide spreading
trees, peculiar to this island. They there met a gigantic and majestic
female, whom they considered a supernatural being whom they rever-
enced under the name of the Habana, and then partly by force and
partly by stratagem, were led to form a rude treaty with Columbus, who
in gratitude to God, celebrated mass under two of the largest trees, which
are still standing and luxuriant, and took possession of the place in the
name of Spain. They built a rude fort, calling it, to please the natives,
Habana. The Spanish soldiers took possession of the country t^vo years
after. As you pass along the quay under the battlements of the Habana,
you are struck by the singular appearance of all around you.
First, of the houses ; they are chiefly constructed of a crumbling
stone, covered with a thick layer of plaster, built in the form of a quad-
rangle, the centre of which is open, communicating by an arched gate-
way with the street.
Ascending a flight of stairs, you find yourself in a gallery extend-
58 3IEM0IR OF GEO. Y*'. BETIIUNE, D. D.
ing on every side of the quadrangle, from -which doors open to the
several apartments. The windows are closed and barred, which with
the massive pillars and arched doorways, seem more like prison-houses
or castles, than peaceful domiciles. It is easy, however, to see thali
though gloomy in appearance, at first, they are in reality the most con-
venient that can be made. The thick walls from four to six feet through,
the heavy tiled roof and the shaded galleries, sufficiently exclude the
sun, while the open windows give free circulation to the air which is re-
tained by the plaster floors. Then the singular veliicles called volantes
call for notice. They are not unlike a large old-fashioned chaise depend-
ing from the axis of two very liigh wheels, supported at the other ex-
tremity by shafts, which are borne by a horse or mule, according to the
purse or caprice of the owner. On the back is seated the Calasero,
or driver. It is not uncommon to see three persons in the volante
and a footman behind, drawn by one poor brute with his driver
on his back. They are, however, very safe ; and, with the exception
of five coaches, are the only carriages used on the Island. Another
thing which strikes the eye of the foreigner is the number of sol-
diers, which amounts to six or seven thousand in the city alone, which
within the walls, contains only sixty or seventy thousand people, though
the suburbs contain, possibly, as many more. The churches are large,
but with the exception of the Cathedral, (containing the bones of Colum-
bus, and really a fine building,) are huge and unshapely. The monks
though numerous, are not so numerous as previous to the first adoption
of the Constitution. To give you some idea of their licentious life and
the general state of religion, I need only say, that I saw on Sunday, at
tlie same time that high mass was performing in the Chapel, a party of
friars at whist in one of the cells. There is also a gambling house imme-
diately opposite the church, supported entirely by the monks."
But the destination of the party was Matanzas, where a
house furnished was generously oflered for their use. Here
they set up a small establishment, taking a poor orphan,
Miss Gerard, under their protection, and beginning that
life of kindness which was a leading feature in their history.
It was the practice of Mrs. Joanna Bethune to write
to her son regularly on the 18th of March, and she does so
In this year, 1826, to the following purport :
WEST INDIES. 5
**And what, my dear George, do you think this day recalls to my mind ?
More than I can tell, of him who, twenty one years ago, first opened his
eyes on time. You miglit indeed have been called by your beloved fatlier,
%vhat the people of France called their king, ' Le Desire ; ' so anxious
was he to liave a. son, that he might devote him to the Lord. Oh the
prayers, the tears, the anxious desires that have been poured out and ex-
pressed before a throne of grace for you, my dear son. See to it that you
*be not negligent.' If you have no opportunity of benefiting others,
which I hope you may, be much in prayer and reading the Scriptures,
that you may gain that spiritual knowledge without which all other
knowledge will be a curse rather than a blessing, in the profession you
have chosen. Your father alv/ays esteemed it a peculiar blessing, tliat
before he entered into business or married, he had a season of leisure
to study and pray over the word of God. The diligent use that he made
of that season was useful to him all his after life ; and made him, even
a layman, eminently useful to others, which you know. * Whatsoever thy
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might,' ought to be the motto of every
Christian. Time is passing, the prophecies fulfilling, let us press into
the ranks of those that are on the Lord's side, that we also, however fee^
ble in ourselves, may be instruments in God's hand of bringing in the
great and glorious day when all shall know him from the least unto the
greatest."
We shall see how, until late in life, Mr. Bethune was
aided, encouraged, warned and stimulated, by a constant
succession of such noble letters, and how well the son ap-
preciated his privilege. In answer to the above he
writes :
'*Matanzas, April i.
"I received, some days since, a previous letter by way of Havana,
which gave me pain, because I learned from it that one of mine had
caused pain to you, though He that knoweth the heart, knew nothing
was farther from my intentions. With sorrow and regret, I sincerely
crave your pardon, and my kind and forgiving mother will, I am sure,
remember that there are some chords in the heart which are more mor-
bidly sensitive than others ; and I must say that the thought of being a
married man with nothing to support my wife, and no immediate pros-
GO MEMOIR OF GEO. \V. BETHUNE, D. D.
pect of making anything, is to me exquisitely painful. But on this
subject I have done.
You ask me in your last, if I find any opportunities of usefulness
about me. There is perhaps, no place where such opportunities may
not be found, if sought for. But there is scarcely any place -vrhere few-
er are to be found than here. I had hopes to do some good among the
negroes of the plantation, but they do not understand any English what-
ever ; and are most bigoted and ignorant Catholics. The most of the
foreigners are hooters at religion, and so fearful is the Government of
anything like Protestantism, that my being connected with the clerical
profession, almost lost me my passport ; and nothing but high bribes to
the Custom House, saved my two trunks of books from forfeiture for
heresy. Were it known that I attempted religious instruction, impris-
onment or banishment would be more certainly the consequence, than
if I murdered or robbed. Still I hope the great day may reveal some lit-
tle good, of doing which I may have been the means in the Island of
Cuba. "
Some effort was made with the house-servants, which
was his first hibor among the blacks, in whom he afterwards
became much interested. He taught tliem to read, sing
hymns, and gave such moral instruction as he could. The
family was increased by a young Bostonian, wliora Mr.
Bethunc rescued from a band of soldiers, who threatened
him with the bayonet because he would not kneel before the
host which the priests were carrying through the streets of
Matanzas ; fleet horses, and the feint of having pistols in
their breasts, saved them. Now that they were known as
Protestants, they always carried pistols in their holsters,
in fact, Mr. Bethune slept with them under his pillqw
from his first arrival. In April, 1826, they left this inhospit-
able island, and brought along a little Spanish maiden, wlio
was taught to love Jesus, and in later life returned to do
good among her friends ; after spending a few pleasant days
in Charleston, they proceeded to Pliiladelphia and New
York.
From this period the correspondence becomes voluminous,
LICENSURE. 61
and would be of itself, when arranged in order, a full and
almost sufficient memoir ; five thousand letters of all kinds
have been examined and noted ; a due selection of these
will be inserted in their proper places, and they will in many
instances tell their own story without the help of remark.
Perhaps it will interest our readers to know that in the
large share of this mass of manuscript which is in Dr. Be-
thune's handwriting we have discovered not one careless or
ungrammatical expression, and only one orthographical error.
This frightful crime amounts to an "1'' too much in " thank-
ful ■ ^ and had he not, in other places, given in his adherence
to the use of the single labial, might have considered him-
self borne out by partial usage and not altogether despi-
cable authority. We suspect that his pen slipped.
Solomon has used a vigorous expression touching the
effect of dead flies upon the ointment of the apothecary ;
and the only effect of that questionable "1" is to call at-
tention to our writer's sensitive purity in matter of style
and diction.
Rev. J. McElroy D.D. to G. W. B. ''June 13, 182G.
*' My Dear Sir : I received your communication three days ago, and
should gladly have replied to it immediately, but have hitherto been pre-
vented. I have now only time to -vvrite a few lines.
We will agi'ec in opinion, that had it been practicable for you to spend
another year at the Seminar}-, it would have been better for you, and
better for the cause which I trust we both love ; better for you, as you
Avould thus have been more amply furnished for the arduous work you
have in view, and better for the cause, inasmuch as you would thus have
been able to exert a still greater efficiency in advancing the Redeemer's
interests. But under all the circumstances of your situation, I am
clearly of the opinion that you should be licensed, and you need appre-
hend no difficulty in the way of that event.
I take the liberty of assigning you, as the subject of a popular SQr«
Q2 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHT XE, D. D.
mon, Galatians vi., v. 14, stopping at the word 'Christ.' 'But God
forbid that I should glory sare in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.'
Wishing you, my dear sir, the Master's presence and blessing,
I am very truly yours."
The license to preach came from the Second Presbytery
of New York and is dated July 11, 1826. The family were
accustomed during the summer to resort to Rockaway, and
Mr. Bethune's first sermon before the public was preached
in a school-house near by, from the same text that had been
assigned by Dr. McElroy ; in this place, Mrs. J. Bethune had
already established a Sunday School.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. Joaxxa Bethune. "Salem, Auj. 7, 1826.
'' My Dear Mother : "We arrived here in safety, but at a house of
mourning, on Saturday. Dear little Alexander had a return of the com-
plaints which have troubled him since his birth, .... and on Saturday
afternoon the dear sufferer exchanged this world of sin and sorrow for
the presence of Ilim who said : ' Except ye become as little children ye
cannot see the kingdom of God.' Poor dear Mary's grief Avas excessive,
but her sweet Christian spirit, upheld by the consolations of the Gospel,
has recovered at least calmness and resignation. The Colonel feels it
very much ; his heart was Avrapped up in him. It has affected me very
much. I have never loved a child of his age so much since John Mason
DuiHeld. . . . The funeral took place yesterday. Of course I was
silent during the whole of the day, though very much urged to preach
by the Doctor. I received yours, with the enclosure, a short time ago,
for which I thank you sincerely. ... I must manage in some way to
preach one day in Troy. Mr. has been very imprudent, and Ms
congregation is much displeased with his mode of preaching. He points
at individual members from the pulpit, and repeats what he has heard
they have said during the week.
Your affectionate and grateful son."
The rest of the summer and autumn were occupied in a
preaching tour through Western New York, when the
young candidate appeared before different audiences ; he
also distributed Bibles and Tracts in destitute places.
VISIT TO TUE SOUTH. 63
G. W. B, TO Mrs. J. B. " Saratoga, August 15, 1826.
My Dear Mother; I arrived here this evening from Salem, ex-
pecting to find Mc Cartee, in which I am both disappointed and alarmed,
fearful lest sickness either of himself or of the family may have de-
tained him. He should certainly have written to me and not left me to
go about the country in this way after him. I am without any creden-
tials whatever (having trusted to having him with mc) and am yet on a
preaching tour. I preached for Dr. Proudfit twice last Sabbath, I
believe to the satisfaction of my friends. 0 I that I might be able to
say it was convincing to the hearts of sinners. Well might we ex-
claim What is man ! and yet O the consolation and encouragement of
that promise or rather declaration, * It pleased God through the
foolishness of preaching,' not the wisdom, * to save them that believe.'"
G. W. B. to Mrs. J. B. "Salem, SepL 15, 1826.
I had hoped to have preached in Troy, as a fine church is about to be
organized in that place, but was disappointed. It seems strange that I
have never yet preached in a vacancy. I pass my time here in study
chiefly, though under some disadvantages from want of books. There
is very little society out of the immediate family.
Do you know when the Examination at Princeton is ? I have entirely
forgotten the day, but wish to be there to see my classmates once more
before they separate forever. I suppose it would give you some pleasure
to learn that my preacliing in Albany gave very great satisfaction to one
of the most sensible and judicious congregations there. If he whose
cause I serve would but make it means of making some wise unto salva-
tion, how much richer the pleasure!"
Savannah, Nov. 6. Mrs. Bethune and he have arrived
safely at this city after a pleasant passage, having
preached on board the vessel to a congregation of ninety
souls.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " Savannau, Nov. 12.
I have been working since I have been here. I preached to a large
congregation of negroes and whites in the negro church on Tliursday
evening. For Mr. How ail day yesterday in a very large church and
congregation, made an address and opened the Sunday school and
preached to a crammed, overflowing house in the negro church at night.
64 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
I love this place very much, there seems to be a vast deal of Christian
spirit and zeal, and the people generally, especially the poor negroes,
seem anxious to hear. They are in point of privilege many degrees
above the blacks in Charleston."
*' Savannah, Nov. 26, 1826.
My Dear Mothek ; You should have heard of me sooner since my
last, but that my time has been occupied in going to and returning from
Augusta. I am sorry that I am unable to state my prospects for
the winter because as yet I have none. Augusta is at present in a very
unsettled state. They have had a Unitarian among them, and they have
promised him a thousand dollars a year to come to them. The Presby-
terian and Episcopalian ministers, have both been attacked as to their
character for sobriety, and though the charges have been investigated and
jn-oved to be false, there are many who yet believe and endeavor to
spread them. When I sent up my letter, it was taken no notice of.
But when in Augusta last week I was told by one of the session that
they anticipated much pleasure from my being in Augusta, because
Avere there no other minister there, I could supply them. They thought
that I would come at any rate, and would be a kind of co7-ps de reserve, a
kind of forlorn hope to do when no other could be found. They seemed
to have no idea of inviting to a regular supply. The good people of
Savannah seem very anxious to keep me here and indeed I am desir-
ous of staying. I know no place where I may be more useful than this,
while I remain at the South. I have not been idle. I have preached, or
shall have preached to-morrow evening, should God give hfe and strength,
twelve times in sixteen days, besides addresses, and travelling three hun-
dred miles. I will preach under the Bethel flag on board a ship, to-
morrow. I am fulfilling as far as possible the command to preach the
gospel to the poor ; for negroes and sailors are my favorite auditors. Can
I have any more tracts, little books for children and sailors' tracts
especially ? I have abundant use for many more than I have, and I hate
to be economical of the Bread of Life."
♦* Savannah, Dec. 11, 1826.
You must have received before tliis my letter containing an account
of my visit to Augusta, and I am confident that so far from regretting
that I have not obtained that situation, you must rejoice, owing to the
unpleasant state of feeling and things there existing. One thing is
VISIT TO THE SOUTH. 65
certain that I have been treated very cavalierly by those gentlemen,
and with the exception of the expense I was at in going there, I regret
nothing more than that I exposed myself to their neglect.
Immediately upon my arrival here, a path of usefulness seemed to be
opened to me which I would have left with regret for the most splendidly
endowed situation our church has within its bounds. Nor would I have
left it but from the conviction that your wishes and my own necessi-
ties demanded my seeking some employment, which, while it i)rom-
ised usefulness in ray Master's cause, promised also, some means for
my support. The prospect even of such a situation, Providence seemed
to deny me. Wilmington I had kept as a forlorn hope, because the ex-
posed situation in which it stands to the sea, would, had I taken it, have
demanded my separation from Mary. On Friday evening, however,
Mr. How, who has been very attentive to me since I have been here,
called upon me at the instance of the Board of directors of the City Mis-
sionary Society, to request me to remain as their Missionary at the sal-
ary of fifty dollars per month, which after a prayerful consideration of
two days, from the prospect of usefulness afforded me, I have been in-
duced to accept. My labors shall be devoted in a primary degree to the
sailors and the poor. Among the sailors my engagements are pecul-
iarly delightful. To the number of two hundred and fifty, they crowd
around me, and listen with the most breathless attention, and receive
their tracts with a grateful expression, which is, I hope, indicative of
good feeling. The mildness of the climate enables me to preach on
the deck of the ship. But it is not to the sailors alone that my ad-
dresses are directed. There is a large number of men, chiefly young
men, who never attend regular service, who follow me wherever I go,
and to whom I hope the Lord, through me, may communicate some
lasting instruction. The poor blacks also assemble in great numbers,
when they know I am to preach, because they say, " I talk so plain. I
no use big words. I talk plain." My meetings during the week are
held on Tuesday evening, when I hope to have a full house from the
attendance of the inhabitants of a part of the town which corresponds
to the "Hook" in the city of New York. I assist, occasionally, the
ministers here, Baptist, Presbyterian, and Methodist, black and white,
so that I seldom preach less than six or seven times during the seven
days, if extemporaneous addresses can be called sermons. For except
5
(jQ MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
in the large churches, for which I always write, I preach without writ-
ing. Such are my prospects and my engagements. If I have done
wrong in making them, I hope I shall be forgiven by my mother and my
God. It was not without many an anxious prayer, and careful exami-
nation that I thus determined. It belongs to man to err, and although
this is no excuse with God, it may be some palliation with an affection-
ate mother. "
*• Savannah, Dec. 28.
I preach frequently for the blacks, and Mr. How, so that I seldom
preach less than three times on the Sabbatli, and twice or thrice during the
week. I have enough labor, that is certain, whether I do any good or
not, the Lord only knows. I preached, or rather delivered an address
for the Sabbath school in this place, and obtained for it about seventy
dollars, about three times as much as they were ever able to obtain be-
fore. They, however, go on a poor plan here, they teach none to read,
considering the free schools as sufficient. They employ themselves
solely about instruction from the Bible. This is very good, indeed, the
principal tiling, but the other should not be neglected."*
The fact was, that his knowledge of the character of sea-
men, together with his perfect familiarity with nautical
phrases, and sea life, rendered his services among sailors ex-
tremely popular and successful. One of his hearers expressed
the idea : " I like to hear 3^ou because you know the ropes. ^'
While in Savannah and preaching in the Bethel Chapel, the
Pastor of the Presbyterian Church proposed an exchange.
To this proposal Mr. Bethune was slow to respond well know-
ing Jack's dislike to see " a new hand at the wheel.'' But
after due warning of the peculiarity of his salt-water congre-
gation, consent was given. During the ensuing week, he,
meeting one of his charge, naturally inquired how the boys
liked the minister whom he had sent. Jack bluntly con-
demned him and called him "an old land-lubber.'' '*Ah,"
said the Pastor, " that is wrong, you must not call the min-
ister of the gospel a land-lubber." " Yes, but he is a land-
VISIT TO THE SOUTH. 67
lubber ; " replied the tar. " Why, he talked about the anchor
of hope, and spun a long yarn, of a storm at sea and a ship
coming near land and in the very breakers : Then he
said, ' what would you do but heave out your anchor ? '
Now, in such a case, I'd like to know, what in creation we
could do with an anchor? No, no, we would order all
hands on deck and try to claw her off shore." So the sailor
walked off triumphantly, feeling justified in his assertion.
Dr. Bethune, in after life, often told this anecdote with great
relish.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " Savannah, Jan. 12, 1827.
Your tracts arrived very seasonably. I was just out, and knew not
where to turn for more. On Sabbath last however, my captains came
around me after I had preached from tliat passage in Proverbs ; — ' He
that hath friends must shew himself friendly, and there is a friend that
sticketh closer than a brother ' — and said that they ought to shew them-
selves friendly, and proposed that on the next Sabbath I should take up
a collection for tracts, after service. This will be to-morrow. My audien-
ces rather increase than diminish, and their attention is unequalled by
any congregation I have ever preached to, and I have more than once
seen tears streaming down a hard weather-beaten check.
One interesting circumstance I must mention, that, on board of the
Scotch sliip where I preached this morning, there was a larger attendance
than at any time previous, and you might notice the crew with each liis
Bible, turning to the text, as if they were in the kirk at home. The
' tract collection', amounted to fifteen dollars and fifty cents, whereas my
brightest hopes did not extend beyond five dollars. One old fellow came
up with two cents between his finger and thumb, remarking tliat he
would give more to-morrow Avhen he was paid off."
" Savannah, Feb. 24, 1827.
I received some thirteen thousand tracts by the Louisa Matilda, with
a very polite note from Mr. the Depositary. I am much obliged
to you for your trouble, and am very much pleased with the selection,
except that some which were sent might have been substituted for
* The Swearer's Prayer.' I am very thankful for the fifty dollars. At
the time I received it, we had not three dollars in the world, and a month
68 MEiMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
to go before any would be due, much less paid. But the Lord will take
care of me. I fear it not : Something more than fifty dollars a month is
necessary to do it with, however, unless the ravens bring us our food."
Br. How* gives the following account of his work at
Savannah : —
*' Besides the sailors, a very considerable number of the citizens of
Savannah, and among them some of the most respectable and intelli-
gent and influential men, habitually attended our young pastor's preach-
ing, and there is reason to believe that his ministry was useful to all
classes of his hearers. The fidelity with which he set forth the great
and fundamental truths of the Gospel, the earnestness with which he
pressed them on the attention of his hearers ; and the eloquence and
power with which he spoke, arrested their close attention, and produced
attding impressions on their minds. His ministry, I doubt not, was
highly useful and instrumental in leading some of his hearers to un-
feigned repentance and faith in Christ. He occasionally preached to the
slaves, especially to those on a plantation in the neighborhood of the
city, belonging to an eminently pious lady. "While they greatly admired
his preaching, they also became strongly attached to him, because of his
kind, familiar and gentlemanly intercourse Avith them. The slaves on
this plantation, as also on a very large number of the plantations in the
South, belonged to the Baptist Denomination. One of them was a
Baptist preacher, strongly attached to liis particular Church and confi-
dent that they were preeminently distinguished for holding Christian
truth and practice in greater purity than they are held by any other re-
ligious body of Christians. He became very much interested in Dr.
Bethune, and strongly attached to him. I have heard the Doctor very
pleasantly repeat the following incident concerning this preacher : he
was expressing to Dr. Bethune his approval and admiration of his
preaching, when he suddenly changed his tone with much earnestness,
*But, Massa, in the Millennium they '11 all be Baptists.' The Doctor re-
ceived tliis information without dispute.^'
In later years Dr. Bethune spoke gratefully of the wise
counsel given by this excellent minister. He was inexperi-
* Eev. Saml. B. How, D, D., now of New Brunswick, N. J.
VISIT TO THE SOUTH. 69
enced, and yet already enjoyed some of the popularity which
attaches to the man of eloquence. Crowds often sought his
ministry. The young preacher was inclined to careless
preparation. Richly gifted with power of language he found
it easy to produce a popular harangue and thus was preach-
ing extemporaneously and allowing his talents to run to
waste. Here the older workman did good service, he took
the beginner to his study, explained his danger and urged
him to write his sermons as the best method of securing
proper forethought, a course Avhich was faithfully pursued by
the scholar in the period of his greatest success.
His labors here were very arduous, but his success was
great and popularity general, his reception by all classes was
enthusiastic and might have injured other young ministers.
He preached to the negroes in the evening, and it is deserv-
ing of note that the interest which his early occupation cre-
ated in his mind followed him through his entire ministry ;
those causes to which he was especially devoted being <' The
Seamen's Friend," and " The Colonization Societies."
70 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
CHAPTER IV.
RHINEBECK MINISTRY.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " Salem, June 2o, 1827.
I embrace the first mail since my arrival here to inform you of our
welfare. Stopped at Rhinebeck, on my -way up, as I proposed, and
learned from my kind friends that there would be a meeting for the
choice of pastor last Saturday. What the result of the meeting was I do
not know. Some were flattering enough to think they Avould pitch upon
me, at least by a majority. It should be a large one to induce me to
accept. I have received, by this day's mail, two very pleasing letters
from Savannah, — one from my excellent friend, Mr. How, enclosing a
very pressing and affectionate invitation from the Ladies' Missionary
Society, to labor among them during the next winter, with a salary of
one hundred dollars per month. The prospect of usefulness which tliis
presents, with the almost adequate support, makes an admirable corps
de reserve. Mr. How accompanies the invitation with his warmest en-
treaties that I should accept it ; the other is from my excellent friend Airs.
Mc Queen, sending me the thanks of my poor negroes for the little ser-
mon which I sent them, and assurances of their kind regards."
He worked to great profit amongst the negroes of her
plantation, and was enabled to establish a well ordered
Church. Mrs. McQueen gratefully rewarded his fidelity and
became his most attached friend.
G. "W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. "Saratoga Springs, July 30, 1827.
I received, a day or two since, a letter from Mr. Jno. Eadcliff, of
Rhinebeck, in which he says that the committee of the session were then
engaged in taking up subscriptions to authorize a call for me. Thus far
they had succeeded beyond their most earnest expectations. Many had
RHINEBECK MINISTRY. 71
subscribed more than at any previous period, and the friends of Mr.
Labagh had testified their acquiescence in subscribing liberally. Until
their subscription is completed, they will send me no official communi-
cation. As far as we short-sighted mortals can judge, there seems no
doubt of their calling me. I look to God for guidance and strength.
This is an important crisis in my life. But my faith is under the direc-
tion o£ God. To him I commit myself."
With tliis call from the Dutch Church at Rhinebeck, in-
volving a change of rehgious denomination, a very serious
question was presented to the young pastor. This step
could not have been taken without deep thought and anxious
prayer, as it was to define his future position. Some years
later he published a sermon entitled " Reasons for preferring
a union with the Reformed Dutch Church of I^orth America,"
which give us a synopsis of his deliberation.
"Many who love ecclesiastical order, pure truth, and above all, free-
dom from contention, have swelled, her members, and now the name
Eeformed Dutch has ceased to be so much a national distinction as the
title of a sect holding certain peculiar features of government, posses-
sing a certain religious character, and subject to certain distinct ecclesi-
astical courts." He preferred her Order; equally removed from the
democracy of Congregationalism, the monarchy of Episcopacy, and the
oligarchy of Presbyterianism she presents in her representative govern-
ment united to rotation in office, the purest republican constitution.
He liked her Liturgy, the most important parts of which are required
to be used. In these, whatever may be the unfaithfulness of the minis-
ter, the great doctrines of grace in their unadulterated purity, are
brought before the minds, and impressed upon the hearts of the people.
He delighted in her sound Doctrine, yet with kind forbearance to those
who were considered in error. He admired her " Spirit, 1. Steady,
slow to change ; 2. Benevolent to other sects and in charities ; and 3. one
of brotherly love. Her ministers are a band of brethren. When we
meet it is as children of tlie same beloved mother. This I am bold to say,
is peculiarly her character. It is obvious to all that are familiar with us,
TLt same spirit pervades her laity. If we ditiyr uj minor |K)int6, we dif-
72 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. DETHUXE, D. D.
fer in love. The object of our diso.ussion is not the triumph of party,
but the peace of the church, and the discovery of truth by mutual coun-
sels. Those who have seen us in our assemblies, must bear witness to
the fact. We never meet but with joy, and never part but with tears and
mutual benedictions. I am aware this is a high wrought picture, but it
is faithful. My heart flows over with thankfulness to the God of love,
while I draw it." Lastly, opportunities of usefulness in the Reformed
Dutch Church are great.
"Our church is at peace. We are not called upon to engage in tlie
controversies of the day, which so much distract the minds, divide the
hearts, and occupy the energies of some sister churches. We may then
give ourselves wholly to the work of saving souls for our Master. If it
be necessary that other denominations should go to the war, we, a little
band, may stay at home and cultivate the field of the Lord, and gather
the harvest. We are united, we are respected, and hold a jyosition of
great influence. Such," he concludes, admitting into his serious discourse
a little drop of native humor, " such are some of the reasons why we
continue to love our church ; why many who have no national claim to
her appellation, * seek her good ; ' and why we believe that * they shall
prosper that love her.' If any deem these reasons insufficient, we will
yet remain where we are, until we can find a better spiritual home."
Of these reasons doubtless the two most potent in the
mind of the young divine were the distracted state of the
Presbyterian, church (then engaged in the struggles which
resulted in its division), and the liturgical attraction. He had
a taste for forms and inclined to give divine service a richer
dress. Certain it is that his choice was the result of earnest
conviction, for he gave his great heart with unflinching loy-
alty to the church of his adoption.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. "Lebanon Springs, Aug. 13, 1827.
I am in a little doubt upon a subject in which I wish your advice. In
the event of my accepting Rhinebeck, is it better for me to be ordained
in New York, or R ? I had rather receive ordination from my own
RHINEBECK MINISTRY. 73
Presbytery, andMc Carte e thinks it would be pleasanter for me ; while on
the other hand Dr. Me Elroy, whom I met at Saratoga, thinks I would
do better to consult Dutch feeling, and receive ordination fi-om the
Classis. Do send me your advice, as it will determine me I
think of you continually, and from very many people have the kindest
inquiries addressed to me I preached tmce at Saratoga, and I
received invitations from i)eople of all quarters to visit vacancies in
their neighborhood. Two of the Consistory of the Dutch Church in
Schenectady were sent to me to request me to preach for them, one, and,
if possible, a number of Sabbaths Two persons whom I never
saw before, introduced themselves to me, to request me, but not ofiBcially,
to go to Portland, Maine, as Dr. Payson's health is so bad as to permit
him to preach but seldom. I have of course given the negative to every-
thing until this aifair with Rhinebeck is settled."
Mrs. J. B. to her Son. " New York, Aug. 15, 1827.
Mt dear George : At last I can acknowledge a letter from you. If
you think of me continually, you might find a few minutes to put your
thoughts on paper. Had I not heard from others, I should not have
known of your getting the call to Rhinebeck. Choules gave the first in-
formation of it, and last Sabbath evening Mr. Camp, of Rhinebeck, called
to inquire for you, and spent an hour with me ; he seems a good, pious
man.
I agree with Mr. Mc Elroy as to your ordination. It would have been,
perhaps, more pleasant for you to have been ordained by your own pres-
bytery, but as it has not been done previous to your accepting the call, I
think it would please your people better to have all done by the Ciassis.
Tliey would then acknowledge you more a Dutchman, as I presume you
would need no dismission from any other body. But I speak without
knowing much of forms. I trust the Lord himself wUl be your counsel-
lor in that, and everytliing else. I should like to be present at your
ordination and installation ; both, I presume, at the same time, which is
another reason for being ordained by the Classis."
He was ordained by the Second Presbytery of New York
in view of his call to the Rhinebeck Church, and when he as-
sumed the solemn vows, he stood upon the spot where his
74 MEMOIR OF GEO. AV. BETHUNE, D. D.
parents had offered him to the Lord in baptism, and i\'here
reposed the sacred remains of his father and grandmother.
Directly after, he was installed at Rhinebeck and had
a most cordial reception. The original correspondence
speaks for itself.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. "Rhinebeck, Dec. 10, 1827.
We arrived here ia safety, and are now enjoying as much comfort as
our anxiety with regard to you will permit
It is a delightful reflection, the omnipresence and universal providence
of Grod, that in all places, and under all circumstances, he is ever at hand
to bless, to uphold, and to comfort his people, that the prayer for his
mercy, though ascending for a distant mother, is as effectual as if offered
hj her bedside. You are with him my beloved mother, with him in whom
you have believed, upon whom you have trusted, to whom you have com-
mitted every temporal and eternal interest. He has promised and he is
faithful ; he will comfort you and stay you by the right arm of his right-
eousness, and this is my only comfort in being absent from you."
"Ehinebeck, Jan. 2, 1828.
Things go on here tolerably well, and I have my hands as full of bus-
iness as they can well be, but I have reason ta be thankful. I am suc-
ceeding better than I had any reason to anticipate. My operations in
the quarter where the Methodists had broken in upon me, have been at-
tended with signal success, my Bible class there already consisting of
five and twenty.
I have also strong reasons for believing ray project of a Classical
School, Avill be successful. I have made Mr. Van Horn an offer of
about seventy-four dollars per quarter, to begin with, with every pros-
pect of rapid increase. Should he come, I shall enjoy some assistance of
my Sunday schools.
Few changes take place in our little village of interest to you. The
whole routine of my duties to a superficial eye, is very monotonous, but
to my anxious mind full of interest. Preaching here, preaching there ;
catechising in tliis quarter or that ; visiting this sick or that afflicted
famOy, but it is my work, assigned me by the Master. May I fulfil the
end for wliich he has called me."
RHINEBECK MINISTRY. 75
"Rhinebeck, Jan. 3, 1828.
Every thing about us progresses (to use a Yankee phrase) very well.
We live very retired and very happily. We have great reason to be
thankful. My official labours are so numerous as to prevent my taking
much enjoyment in my greatest pleasure, reading, and my separation
from my bclov<2d and affectionate mother hangs like a cloud over me.
If I had time to relieve myself by frequent writing, it would be different,
but my moments allotted to general writing must be had, when others
would be asleep, and the duties which more than filled up the day are
closed. But if all were sunshine and happiness here, we would not seek
for heaven ; if we had all the comforts of home in this poor world, we
would not care for our Father's house. But I trust I am not entirely
ungrateful for the mercies I receive. I feel a happiness and enjoyment
of my labour, which I never knew in my leisure hours, and I know by
experience, that the sleep and the food of the labouring man is sweet.
"Ehinebeck, January 10, 1828.
Mt Beloved Mother ; Your kind letter I received and read with that
attention which every suggestion from one so affectionate and tender
towards me deserves. I thank you, my dear mother, for the gentleness
and forbearance with which you warn me of my follies and my sins.
Dear mother, I thought all the while with David, ' let the righteous
smite thee, it shall be a kindness and let him reprove me, it shall be an
excellent oil, which shall not break thy head.' I dare hardly make prom-
ises, I have so often promised yet failed ; but my dear mother, your
letter has reached my heart. I. do feel and deeply too, that I have been
foolish, sinfully, ungratefully foolish, and I pray God I may never give
you cause to repeat the gentle reproofs conveyed in your last. It is
not with any intention to extravagance but through carelessness — sin-
ful, blameable carelessness — I acknowledge. Not to excuse, but per-
haps to palliate, my folly, I may say, that, we are young housekeepers
and may, perhaps, and I hope we will, improve."
'•I have been lately thinking more and more about the instruction of
the lambs of the flock, and it appears to me that the church as such by
its government should take a more decided part in the instruction of the
young. The old churches (spite of our boasted novelties) managed
these things better, especially our church (Hollanidsche), — she had all
the schools under her care. Their masters were her choice, subject to
76 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
her government. Now, suppose an infant school attached to each
church. Then the Sabbath schools for more decidedly religious and
doctrinal instruction. Then schools for higher branches until the clas-
sical branches should finish all. How perfectly could the church control
the growing years and expanding afiections of her young. Immoral
teachers, dangerous books, all would be banished from the schools,
"I begin to be more and more of Dr. Green's sentiments, viz : That
hoAvever beneficial Bible and Sabbath Societies may be, the church in
her corporate capacity should be up and doing. The command is to the
church, Go ye and preach. I wish we had your book, I feel quite im-
patient to see it. I have half a notion to turn autlior myself. I find
that there is nothing more difficult in the country, than to find good
well-informed teachers or even those who have an opportunity of inform-
ing themselves. Judson's Questions, or anybody's questions, will be of
little service Avhere there is no commentary to assist the teacher to ex-
plain. Bible classes and lectures do something towards this, but not
enough — neither does the instruction of a bible class keep pace with
the Sabbath school.
" My plan is this — to begin with the creation — thence the fall — the
promise of Messiah — the call of Abraham — Israel — the Passover &c.,
to Christ's birth — thence through the gospel — to write a short running
commentary adapted to the higher classes of Sabbath schools — divided
into proper lessons with short practical remarks and place at the end
the questions which show the attention of the scholar to the comment-
ary. This commentary to embrace geographical, archseological, doc-
trinal, explanatory and practical remarks, suited especially to children.
The only thing which I fear is, the expense."
" Rhinebeck, February 18, 1828.
You have probably seen the result of our Bible meeting. It was
very clieering. The resolution was entered upon our minutes, that
within six months every family in the county of Dutchess should have a
bible. The motion was made by a Methodist, seconded by a Baptist, and
enforced by a Lutheran. When I saw they were about to disperse I
rose and moved, with a few remarks, that a subscription be opened imme-
diately ; it was carried almost by acclamation and my mother will excuse
RHINEBECK MINISTRY. 77
my putting down $ 10, when it was followed immediately by .$ 250
— and since, I learn, by more than $ 100 more — our county funds ex-
clusive of the auxiliary societies, must now amount to nearly 400 dol-
lars. I think that the Bible Funds throughout the county of Dutchess
within the present year must amount to $ 1,200.
So much for prompt exertion."
The young pastor was made Honorary Member of the
Delphian Society of Union College on the 1st of April of this
year, and the diploma, being the first of many the like which
he received, is carefully preserved in the family archives.
On the 18th of September comes the first letter to beg for
patronage and recommendation. Some years later such
letters came by dozens and twenties. The last we see of
him in 1828 is his leaving a letter to his mother to " do the
courteous to his congregation, which has turned Qiit almost
en masse to build his fence for him."
His labors and meditations at this time are continually
turned towards the schools of his charge, and he constantly
has to thank his mother for aiding him with advice and
money to keep them up.
In September 1829, his congregation made what he calls
a " straggling attempt" to raise his salary. « The utmost point
they try to reach is eight hundred dollars, and I doubt whether
they will make that out. It is to be sure a rather unfivor-
able time." But better days were coming.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. "Rhinebeck, October 26, 1829.
The Rev. Mr. Schemerhorn of Utica, came to make a proposal of
very grave interest. You know, perhaps, that for a year or two back,
they have been endeavoring to raise a Dutch Church in Utica, to recall
the descendants of our church to the institutions of their forefothers and
specially to stem the tide of error and disorder which is flowing at the
West. The Church is now completed or nearly so, and Mr. S. has
78 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
come to ask me to become the pastor, and says that he does so because
I have been mentioned by a number of persons high in the Dutch
Church, as the person adapted for the enterprise, and that he can find no
other. Mr. Varick of Utica, who is one of the main pillars in the
Church, having heard me at Oswego, and Mr. Broadhead also wish me.
They secure to me a salary of one thousand dollars increasing with the
income of the church, to fifteen hundred dollars. The price of living
is far lower in Utica than here, and the station, one of the most promi-
nent in the Dutch Church.
The prospect of raising a good church speedily, is great. They
wish to have a minister the latter part of December, at least. Now,
what shall I do ? They press me for a speedy answer, but how can I
give one. It does appear as if the Lord were calling me to another
sphere of usefulness in some things, and others appear to bid me stay
here. I write to you for your advice, I refer it to God by prayer and
desire to be in his hands to do with me as he will, I feel my inability
to discharge the duties of so important a station and think I am better
here. But, if the Lord call me, then he will give me strength."
The answer comes, — promptly, and to the point:
" October 29.
You, and I with you, undertook your present situation fully con-
vinced that the salary of six hundred dollars would not support you,
but hoping that the Lord Avould honor you as his instrument in reviv-
ing an apparently neither cold nor hot congregation, that it would be a
good place for study, and to form a character, and experience for future
usefulness when the Lord should call you to a more enlarged sphere and
you should see your Avay clear to accept such a call.
How have these expectations been realized? Of the first we need
say nothing, but surely the second has been more than realized. The
pleasure of the Lord has indeed prospered in your hand, the dry bones
have been clothed with sinews and flesh. The word of the Lord has
not returned to him void; but as the snow and the rain has watered the
earth and resulted in seed to the sower. The blessed purpose of the
Lord has been fulfilled in the salvation of many souls, and you, ray be-
loved son, the lionored instrument in His hand. You have also been
RHINEBECK MINISTRY. 79
instnimental in rousing the people to active exertion in the Lord's cause
and to honor him with their substance, and through you much treasure
has been cast into the Lord's treasury. You have seen an apparently
careless people become a praying people, an apparently stingy people
became a liberal people, and you have all along been treated with much
affection and much greater respect than usually falls to the lot of young
men. To balance this, you have not been supported, and your salary has
not gone as far even as you expected, neither have the people done as
much for you, in a pecuniary way, as they have done for others, but the
worst part of your settlement is over, many expenses you have been
exposed to, you will not have again. You will gradually learn experi-
ence and economy, and, even at Mary's calculation, you may live.
Taking the call into view I see nothing to tempt you to change, and
much to frighten you. You would be in the very hot-bed of Hopkins-
ianism, you would be looked at with a jealous eye by all settled minis-
ters, and you would have to labor in season and out of season, not ex-
clusively with the sweet feeling of bringing souls to Christ and honor
to your Master, but to build up a Dutch Church ; both may be proper,
but I must say, my heart shrinks from your engaging in any party work
and of course being exposed to party feeling. A change may be neces-
sary, but I do not advise it so soon. Your character is scarcely estab-
lished, and were you to change for Utica, and probably from that to some
other place, it might give an unfavourable impression of your stability.
Besides, I see nothing to tempt you, even in a pecuniary way; one
thousand dollars, without parsonage or wood, would be little better than
what you have; your house-rent would be two hundred dollars at least,
and you have loaded yourselves with so much " thick day " that the
expense of moving would swallow up any overplus, and, though men-
^tioned last, you will consider with me, the exposure of your dear Mary,
at so inclement a season, as almost a sufficient reason itself for not
attempting to move this season."
Meanwhile, however, there were other causes at work and
while the zealous young minister was " proposing," the ill
health of his wil'e forced him to leave Rhinebeck for the
South. He went away on leave of absence, but never came
back again.
80 BIEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
His laljors had been abundant. The congregation was
spread over fifteen miles of country, and he was obliged to
conduct four Bible classes. His audience was not composed
entirely of plain country people, but embraced some who
were distinguished in the land, such as Hon. Peter R. Liv-
ingston, and the widow of General Montgomery. Mrs. L. he
loved '^o call his " Rhinebeck mother," and when she was dy-
ing he sang over her couch, " Angels are hovering round thy
bed, to waft thy spirit home." He was most conscientious
in work, never saving himself when the sick or sorrowful
called. One evening he said to Mrs. B. we are both so fond
of music, I am enticed to play the flute when I ought to be
writing sermons. My flute is a temptation from duty. I will
give it up. It was dispatched to a nephew with tears, and ac-
companied by a note, " I send j^ou my flute, it tempts me
from my studies. I love it, for it was the gift of your grand-
father, use it tenderly for his sake." Frequently he was in
his study till two or three o'clock in the morning, and when
asked at a late hour, " Are you not weary ?" replied " Yes,
but I cannot sleep till I have made each individual visited
a subject of special prayer."
Rev. Mr. Drury has supplied interesting particulars re-
garding this ministry.
**When Dr. Bethune came to Rhinebeck, tte church, like many of
its sisters in the country, was in a cold and lifeless state ; though
there was doubtless in it a little leaven of piety it was almost hidden
in the great mass of dead orthodoxy and indifference by which it
was surrounded. There was not a single unman-ied person in the
communion under the age of fifty, and of the members there were none
who could lead in public prayer. Of course such a thing as a social
prayer-meeting was unknown, and under existing circumstances, seemed
well-nigh Impossible. When after Dr. B. came he spoke of starting
RHIKEBECK MINISTRY. 81
one, a young man, now a leading member of tlie Poughkeepsie bar,
doubtingly asked, "But Dominie, who will make the prayers?" to
which the Dr. had to answer, " If no one else, I."
He very soon filled the church with interested listeners to his
preaching. With his natural gifts and abilities, he could not but be
an attractive and eloquent speaker. His sermons while at Rhinebeck
were characterized by the same practical and fervent spirit that is ob-
served in his published discourses. At this period his pulpit prepara-
tions were less studied than they afterwards became, and many of his
former people, on hearing him in after years would remark the differ-
ence, but yet insist, that although the Dominie had gained perhaps in
grace and polish, he was more eloquent and effective to their minds,
when his inspiration was gained more from daily intercourse with his
people, than from the retirement of his study. At the second service
he always extemporized, and these sermons are, I find, best, and most
favorably remembered. But while the Dr. was effective in the pulpit,
and by his preaching wrought a great work, his distinguished useful-
ness was due, in almost as great measure, to his diligent use of the
accessaries of preaching.
As a pasto?' the Doctor was especially active. He seems to have
recognized that in order to benefit his people he must get them ac-
quainted with, and interested in, him, and to this end he spent much of
his time with them at t)]eir homes. He took especial pains to interest
the young, whom he regarded as the hope of the church. He was in the
habit of remarking that the old people had become too set in their ways
for him to do much with them, so he must, if he was going to do any-
thing, attend to the young, as only in that way could he get such
Christians as he wanted. He neglected no means by which he might
hope to win any. If his horses needed shoeing, or he required in any
way the services of a mechanic, he went himself to see to it, and in
this apparently chance encounter was not unmindful of his higher
work, and by his ready wit and conversational powers wiled many to
hear him preach who were never before in the habit of attending
church.
Much that he did as a pastor was not discovered until after he had
left. About eight miles from the village is a slate quarry, at that
S2 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
time extensively -worked, affording employment to quite a number of
workmen. They and their families were in a great degree destitute
of the preaching of the gospel and the means of grace. After he had
left, for many years the Doctor^s name was spoken of in these humble
families with affection and respect. In each of them he had been a
visitor, and quietly, and as it were, unknown, sowed the seeds of the
word. He was famous for the speed of his driving. Such facts as
these show in what service it was done.
Dr. B. was, moreover, the inaugurator of the Temperance move-
ment in Rhinebeck, and accomplished in this direction a much needed
reform. His sermon on the subject is remembered by those who heard
it as an eloquent and stirring effort. It was published. This is the
first record of his appearance in print although he had contributed to
magazines under assumed names. The Doctor not only preached but
practiced the new doctrine. In the early spring, soon after preaching
the sermon, he attempted to drive to Poughkeepsie on the ice, and
just before reaching Hyde Park he broke in and with his companion,
got a decided wetting. Yv^hen they reached Hyde Park his compan-
ion suggested " taking a little something to keep the cold out," but
the Doctor refused, saying he had lately ridiculed the idea of taking
liquor in winter to keep out the cold and in summer to keep out the
heat, and he was going to try the virtue of doing without it, and af-
terwards testified that he was none the worse for his abstinence.
Bethune was fond of horses and was accomplished in their manage-
ment. He owned one or two during his stay which he alone was able
to manage. So noted was his horsemanship that some were even
brought to hear him preach to ascertain if he could preach as well as
he could drive. He had as a near neighbor, an old gentleman, who
spent a great deal of his time in his garden. As he was something ol
a character in his way, the Doctor would frequently stop and converse
with him over the fence. One day he said to him, " Well Mr. L ,
now you are suited to a great many employments, if you fail at one
you can take to another ; but if I were prevented from preaching what
do you think I would be good for?" The old gentleman stopped
digging, and then with a twinkle in his eye, answered, " Vf ell, Domi-
nie, if you have to stop preaching you would make a first rate stage-
RniNEBECK MINISTRY. 83
driver." The Doctor accepted the compliment on his horsemanship
and failed not to repeat the joke to his friends. Mr. L did not
tell his Dominie, as ho might have done, that other trades failing he
could take to gardening. Helping hands were never wanting. A fine
taste directed and a living energy urged on the work. A little gem of
horticulture was the result. The tired eyes of the hard- writing pastor
had a sweet object to dwell upon, flowers adorned the vases on the
tables; and the great, much neglected truth that "beauty is cheap"
received its fullest illustration. The parsonage was surrounded with
beautiful scenery. A silver brook made sweet music at the bottom of
the sloping ground on which the house stood, and the ruins of the old
parsonage peeping through the trees reminded of good Dr. E-omeyn,
who was its first occupant. The first winter was employed in bring-
ing forest trees on sledges and placing them in trenches prepared, and
in the spring the grounds were laid out and planted with the choicest
fruits and flowers. The neighbors gladly aided in the work. One
day they were in despair at fruitless eflforts lo mark a circle for the
flower bed. The Dominie came up in his light wagon and perceiving
at a glance their difficulty, desired them to stand back, drove in, and,
with a sweep of his wheels, marked the true curve amid the uplifted
hands and loudly expressed admiration of the bystanders.
Rev. Mr. Hendricks relates that at a general training Mr. Bethune
was chaplain of the day. Some of the people having fallen into intox-
ication, the minister reproved the fault severely, asserting that it was
beastly, but soon corrected himself, saying no, that was a satire on the
beasts, for they never debased themselves in such wise.
84 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
CHAPTEE V.
MINISTRY IN UTICA.
On his arrival in Savannah, whites and blacks, sailors and
civilians received their favorite Pastor with acclamation.
He found a sphere of usefulness at once, by taking the place
of Mr. Baker who was travelling for the Savannah Bible
Society: ''so that the Lord can find a place for me,'^ he
says, " and one too, in which I am, perhaps, aiding my favor-
ite cause more than if I were personally and immediately
engaged.'^
His somewhat exulting accounts to his mother did not
elicit precisely the response that he may have expected.
''What I most dread in your remaining at Savannah,'^ she
says, " is your popularity there ; remember Bacon's prayer :
' When I ascend before men, 0 Lord, may I descend in deep
humility before thee/ ''
His satisfaction in his Savannah work too, was seriously
lessened by the affairs of the Hhinebeck parish which
weighed upon his mind, and of which he received no cheer-
ing accounts. The eye of the Master was wanting and it
is evident that in spiritual matters his church was retro-
grading, in money matters not getting on. The call to Utica,
though declined in theory, was yet an open question and the
failure of the Khinebeck Consistory to reduce the debt of
the church and raise their minister's stipend, left him free to
stand by them or go elsewhere as should seem best. Mean-
while, calls to other churches were not wanting. In the
31IAISTKY IN UTICA. 85
latter part of March a very complimentary letter from
Charleston, invited him to fill the pulpit in the Second
Presbyterian Church of that city. The wish of the con-
gregation was unanimous, with the exception of a single
individual, who desired it placed upon the minutes, that " he
could vote for no one who had charge of another congrega-
tion without first consulting that congregation to know if
they were willing to dissolve the connection.''
He thus wrote :
"I preached three times yesterday to very full congregations and at
night to an enormous audience. My charity sermon brought a very
large collection. It may please you to know I have met with great ap-
plause, I pray God, with spiritual success. I have soothed my lonely
feelings by writing the following lines :
TO MY WIFE.
Afar from thee, the morning breaks,
But morning brings no joy to me ;
Alas ! ray spirit only wakes
To know I am afar from thee —
In dreams I sa,w thy blessed face.
And thou wast nestled on my breast ;
In dreams I felt thy loved embrace,
And to mine own thy heart was pressed.
Afar from thee ! 'tis solitude,
Though smiling crowds around me be,
The kind, the beautiful, the good.
But I can only think of thee ;
Of thee, the kindest, loveliest, best,
My earliest and my only one ;
Without thee, I am all unblest.
And Avholly blest with thee alone.
Afar from thee ! The words of praise
My listless ears unheeded greet;
What sweetest seemed in better days.
SQ MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
Without thee seems no longer sweet;
The dearest joy fame can bestow,
Is in thy moistened eye to see,
And in thy cheeks' unusual glow,
Thou deemest me not unworthy thee.
Afar from thee ! The night is come,
But slumbers from my pillows flee;
I cannot rest so far from home,
And my heart's home is, love, with thee.
I kneel before the throne of prayer,
And then I know that tliou art nigh,
For God, who seeth everywhere.
Bends on us both his watchful eye.
Together in his loved embrace,
No distance can our hearts divide ;
Forgotten quite the mediate space,
I kneel thy kneeling form beside ;
My tranquil frame then sinks to sleep,
But soars the spirit far and free;
Oh welcome be night's slumbers deep,
For then, dear love, I am with thee."
During this winter Mr. B. stood as godfather for the son of
Mrs. McCullister. He made him a special subject of prayer
on Sabbath evenings, asking that he might become a Minister
of the Gospel. The prayer is answered and he is the be-
loved pastor of a large congregation in San Francisco.
The Charleston congregation was treated with great cour-
tesy and candor. Their offer was taken into respectful con-
sideration ; the facts not concealed, which rendered a decis-
ion difiScult. When the call to Utica was renewed soon
after, and the northern clergyman thought it a more advan-
tageous oiSfer for him, his southern friends had nothing to
complain of in his course.
THE CHURCH AT UTICA. 87
A clergyman's profession makes him fit to stand before
kings and mean men alike, and in this fact, and in the fulfil-
ment of his duty, he finds his reward for toil and exposure.
But this world's goods are none the less acceptable for that.
A present of three hundred dollars was made to the young
pastor by his Savannah congregation, as a token of their re-
gard for his person, and their estimation of his talents, and
probably imparted equal pleasure to the giver and the re-
ceiver. Indeed a firm attachment appears to have subsisted
between the minister and his people, and so much kindness
was shewn to Mr. Betlmne by the men of the south gener-
ally, as fully to account for a certain tenderness of feeling
which he entertained for them when the war first broke out.
The Utica congregation have made up their minds finally
as to the man they desire for pastor, and from that man
the}' will not take no for an answer. Their church is not
yet formed, and they will have but one man to form it.
Their church is not yet dedicated, and Vaej will have the
same man to dedicate it. "We have appointed the third
Thursday of this month (June, 1830), for the dedication
of the church of Utica,^' writes John F. Schermerhorn,
"and we expect you there on the occasion, and wish that
you supply the pulpit on the Sabbath following.'' The
church is duly dedicated on the day fixed. The " edifice is
the neatest and most tasty building of its kind that can be
seen, the congregation quadruple what our most sanguine
friends could have anticipated, and we have succeeded in
procuring a chorister of the best abilities for his ofBce, so
that everj^thing looks fair."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. "Utica, July 8, 1830.
My Dear Mother : I should have vrritten before this, but time after
time have been prevented by my multitudinous concerns. Not that my
88 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
parish is so large as to occupy much of my time in visiting, as I can see
my -whole flock in one day. But the commencement of my Sabbath
School Bible Class etc., has swallowed me up. By the way, my school
does well. Seven of my men gave me ten dollars each to establish it.
I have now sixty scholars, and we have only met once.
My church promises fairly as yet ; although, of course, the experiment
is only begun, but my congregation increases every day very evidently.
We have no quarrel with any one, and will try to permit no one to have
any quarrel with us.
Honesty is our policy — plain, open-handed honesty ; a policy the God
of truth will own and bless.
You will be gratified by hearing that the Scotch people gather about
me. They say : ' There 's something about these ither churches
we dunna like ; but ye are mair like our ain fouk at hame.' They do
not understand Hopkinsianism, can't make out what they would be at.
One of them was particularly pleased with one sermon of mine. He
could not tell how it was, but it ran more like the sermons he used to
love. I knew the reason. I had carried the doctrine of substitution and
suretj^ship in a strong vein throughout."
" Utica, Ji/Zy 28, 1830.
You will be pleased to hear that thus far we are doing very well. The
pews are not sold, and will not be if we can avoid it, our wishes being to
rent or lease them. I cannot therefore say who my congregation will be.
It is however ascertained that a very good number, and among them the
choice people of the town, certainly intend to join us. "We have our
opponents as we expected. Their attacks, however, they have not dared
to make openly ; but insidious attempts, to impede if not fi'ustrate our
designs, have not been wanting. As yet, thanks to our good God, we
have been enabled to walk so circumspectly as to give no occasion for
open censure ; and the worse charges against me you will not be dis-
pleased to learn are, ' Triangularism,' * and others similar.
It is my firm conviction that this church may be instrumental in doing
much good, not only as a centre for extensive missionary operations of
* A theological term of the day, derived from n book called '* The Triangle," and
signifying high-toned Calvinism.
MINISTERriU:^ TRIALS. 89
our own church, but to the people of this village. It has already had
the effect of allaying the bitterness of party rancor among other churcli-
es, and I hope may be an ark to preserve the law of the Lord entire,
amid the flood of false zeal and falser doctrine by which we are surround-
ed. Already have they endeavoured to leave us out from the charitable
enterprises of the day, by cautiously excluding my men and myself from
ail offices and even committees ; but the effect of their schemes has been
neutralised by our willingness to work among the lowest, and to give
with the highest, and already my little church has taken a stand among
the most energetic and liberal in tliis section of country."
The climate of Utica was too severe for Mrs. Bethune's
health^ and another southern trip became necessary.
"Utica, October 5, 1830.
The communication to go south tliis winter and to leave Utica, has
driven my friends here to apparent and I believe real despair. They
thmk that it will be the death blow to the church and to all the efforts
in the cause of truth here.
They appear to acknowledge the necessity of Mary's having a south-
ern winter, but had not anticipated my leaving them altogether, and yet,
if I go to the south, I see not how it can be otherwise. The mariners'
church is my support if I go, and I cannot take that except I remain
from November till the end of May ; and then, again, the uncertainty of
the subsequent winter. This is an important station. I am persuaded
a congregation can be gathered with the ordinary blessing of Providence,
if I remain ; and, I believe, I would be paid the sum stipulated. I also
think that I have opportunities of improvement here, and a fair opening
for establishing my reputation in the Christian community. At the same
time there are many difficulties in the way.
I do not wish tliis enterprise to fail. I believe it to be intimately con-
nected with the cause of sound truth. I know not what to do. Dark-
ness and doubt rest upon the future. I have thought and prayed, and
yet I am in darkness. These people afflict me. The cause which has
somehow become entangled with me, afflicts me. Do write to me
speedily, decidedly and at large, and excuse my indecision."
90 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Answer to the above from New York : —
*' My Dear George : You imposed a hard task upon me, and
as it is always better to take time to consider and pray for direction,
I have not answered as speedily as perhaps you wished. Yesterday
■was our communion Sabbath, and you and your concerns were upon my
mind. This forenoon I received a letter from Mr. Schermerhorn, lay-
ing not only the Dutch church, but the prosperity or ruin of his family
upon the advice I shall give you, with a variety of appeals to my con-
science. The words which came to my mind while reading his letter
were those which the parents of the blind man said, *' He is of age ask
him." He proposes that if it is necessary Mary should go south, that
you should remain and she go with a companion ; or that you should go
and return early in the spring. I presume you have heard all his argu-
ments. . . . You may make a virtue of necessity, and consent to be
installed in Utica, even though Mary's health render your going south
necessary. But there is another circumstance which makes Utica less
desirable to me. Many say that you are killing yourself. I called at
Jersey City to see the Colonel and Mrs. Varick. He told me it would
never do for you to labor so hard, that although you were doing a great
deal of good, it was more than flesh and blood could stand. I must
therefore beg, and if I dare, insist, that you do not preach more than twice
on the Sabbath. ... I can give no further advice on the subject. I
cannot consent to take the blame of all the exertions made to establish a
Dutch church, and to advance the cause of truth being ruined, as well as
the temporal prosperity of Mr. Schermerhorn's family. It was no fault
of either you or me that he put his money into such stock ; and you and
he both know that I never was quite satisfied that you should go to
Utica. It has been accompanied by some sacrifices on my part as well
as on yours."
In the latter part of October, the church at Utica was
formed. The fears of the anxious mother regarding* the
want of a church, and especially of a consistory, proved
unfounded ; but in a worldly, temporal point of view, tlie
wise lady's provisions were justified.
INSTALLATION AT UTICA. ' 91
TJiG zealous minister writes : —
"There is an unusual number of young men among us. . . . The
other folks, the extreme IIojjs, emphatically let us alone, hold no com-
munion Avith us and pass by on the other side. If there is determined
opposition against us, (and I fear there is,) it is secret. No charges are
brought and I am happy to believe none can be ; for whatever unchris-
tian feeling may have obtained in our hearts none has appeared in our
acts. The motto I have endeavored to recommend and to practise upon
is, when persecuted let us bless, when reviled let us revile not again.
1 am confident that I am in a good school ; caution, prudence, up-
right walking, the government of the tongue, appear vital in their
importance."
The installation at Utica took place on November 7th,
and on the following Lord's Day he preached his Inaugural
Discourse from 1 Cor. ii., 2, entitled " The cross of Christ
the only theme of the Preacher of Truth." This sermon
gives us the key-note of all his preaching.
"Your attention will not be diverted from the more important topics
of eternal interest by the wire-drawn speculations of mere human phil-
osophy, nor will the plain and simple rules of tlie Christian faith be ob-
scured and entangled by the metaphysical jargon of modern theology,
falsely so called. The description of any subject inferior to those of
eternal interest will be considered profane and insulting in the house of
God. All amusements or interest here, must be sought and found, not
in the adornments of style or the playfulness of fancy, but in the grave
examination of solemn truths and simple illustration of heavenly pre-
cepts. You will not be assembled on the Sabbath to listen to one who
hath a pleasant song, or who * can play well upon an instrument,' even
were it within the compass of your pastor's talents ; but to hear the
words of truth and soberness. It will be his endeavor not to please the
itching ear, but to instruct the inquiring soul and warm the pious heart.
Like the Master, he will seek to draw with the cords of love, rather than
drive with the scourge of terror. . . . iTidccd, mv beloved friends, the
92 ME3I0IR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
cross of Christ shall be my welcome and continual theme ; and whether the
rigorous demands of the violated law be thundered, or the sweet accents
of forgiving love be whispered in your ears, the object will be to bring
you weeping yet thankful, humble yet confident, to the feet of the
crucified Hope of Israel, xis the herald of His cross, the preacher of
His gospel, the messenger of His love, never will your pastor descend
from the sacred elevation until he hath pointed it out as the rest of
the weary, the refuge of the condemned and the shelter of the lost."
In the evening there was an ''Exhortation to prayer for
the peace of Jerusalem." Both these discourses were pub-
lished at the request of the people.
Nothing can be clearer than that our pastor had a most
arduous and difficult task in building up the church in Utica.
Ilovey K. Clarke, Esq., who was one ofthe earliest converts
under Mr. B.'s ministry at Utica, and had been engaged in
the founding of the church, kept up a continual correspond-
ence with the man whose life we endeavor faithfully to set
forth. He has furnished much interesting matter from meui-
ory and his own papers. We quote his statements :
*' This Church had then been recently organized and was, in some
degree, the result of a condition of religious opinion existing there ;
especially among those who accepted the Calvinistic standards of faith,
with, nevertheless, such differences in their belief as would scarcely
fail to be considered as of vital importance.
About three years before, the Rev. Mr. Finney had, during an entire
winter, preached almost every evening in the First Presbyterian
Church. That his preaching was attended by the power of the Spirit
of God there can be no question, as numerous conversions abundantly
testified ; conversions which after the lapse of nearly forty years still
attest their divine origin. But the sentiment prevailing in that locality
gave such prominence to the doctrines preached by Mr. Finney and
the practices employed by him as efficient Instrumentalities in the
work of conversion, that to oppose the "new measures" or to doubt
DIFFICULTIES. 93
their wisdom, was regarded as assuming a position of opposition to a
manifest work of grace. Those to whom this position was assigned
could not but regard Mr. Finney's preaching as a departure from the
standards of the Church in which he was ordained; and his measiu-es
as unscriptural and therefore dangerous in their tendencies. But it
was a fearful responsibility to seem to oppose a revival. It was easy
to sail with the stream which seemed to bear on its bosom the glad
fruits of numerous conversions to God. New measures were popular,
and those who could not adopt them nor approve the doctrines, of
which they were in some respects the outgrowth, were compelled to
silence or to seek other religious associations. Such influences as
these, combining with others which are seldom wanting on such occa-
sions, resulted in the organization of the church to which Mr. Bethune
was now called to be the Pastor.
It is not surprising that he found himself, to some extent, in a field
of controversy. He had a new church to organize and build up ; a
church harmonious in all the substantial of its faith, and yet, if not
discordant in the materials of which it was composed, as it certainly
was not, it was nevertheless not perfectly harmonious.
He was not long moreover in making the sad discovery that there
were those to whose recognition as a welcome fellow-laborer in the same
service he might have supposed himself entitled, who regarded him as
the representative of a dead orthodoxy — one whose qualifications for
usefulness might be derided and whose influence might be crippled
without offence to the cause of evangelical rehgion. Under such cir-
cumstances and environed by an atmosphere of prejudice did this young
minister carry on his labors at Utica. His two sermons on the day of
his inauguration have already been referred to. The inaugural itself
most significantly indicated the defensive attitude which the preacher
felt himself obliged to maintain by its frec[uent references to the
Heidelberg and the Westminster Confessions. A note printed on tlie
cover of the pamphlet which contained these discourses further indi-
cates the personal hostility to which he was in some measure subjected.
As an appeal to the Christian public to be treated with Christian
courtesy it is well remembered by those who sympathized with the
author on the occasion of it. It was as follows :
94 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
" The author of these sheets is not without information that his the-
ological opinions have been grossly misrepresented, and that he has
been designated by opprobrious names, ' Triangular,' * Antinomian,'
* A preacher of smooth things,' &c. His every discourse is a refuta-
tion of such charges, but such refutation is of no avail against their cen-
sure who condemn without hearing. He hopes these misrepresenta-
tions have been unintentional, and he assures all who have made them,
of his earnest endeavor, by God's grace, to forgive the deepest injury he
can suffer from man, the diminution of his usefulness in his Master's
cause. He would fain forget what he has heard, as unfavorable to the
cultivation of that high esteem in which he would hold the followers
of the same kind and heavenly Master. To be altogether silent,
however, would be to permit the circumscription of his ministerial in-
fluence. For the sake, therefore, of the truth he advocates, he has
been induced to publish the foregoing discourses as an exhibition of
his creed ; though his youth, in other circumstances, would have ex-
horted him to retirement. He again declares that his creed is to be
found in the books of his Church and those of the Presbyterian
Church, in whose schools he was educated, and to whose ministry he
was ordained, though subsequently, from deliberate preference, he en-
tered the communion of the Reformed Dutch Church. If, therefore,
he differs from any one, it is because that person differs from the
standards of faith above referred to.
He is not ashamed of association with the many mighty men, since
the Reformation, who have held the doctrines he holds by whatever
name calumny may stigmatize them. He frankly acknowledges a dis-
like to the disposition of those who ' spend their time in nothing else
but either to tell or to hear some new thing,' but loves sound, con-
sistant, stable doctrine. His desire is 'to live in charity with all men,'
especially * with the household of faitb ; ' and he asks for that charity in
return ' which thinketh no evil,' without palpable evidence, and his
reliance is upon Him, ' who endured the contradiction of sinners
against himself,' and who ' when reviled, reviled not again.'"
To illustrate the nature of the controversies then disturbing
CONTROVERSIES. 95
the church, and Mr. Bethune's position, we quote a letter of
Mr. Clarke :
" Canandaigua, Sept. 21, 1831.
Mr Dear Pastok : — Nohvithstanding our separation, I shall per-
sist in preserving the relation of Pastor and Parishioner between us,
and although our intercourse will be seriously interupted, still, I trust
that the pastoral visits of your pen will be neither 'few nor far be-
tween.'
As you anticipated I find in Mr. some things difierent from what
I found in you^ but what they are I am not able, clearly, to define. He
will occasionally flash off from the pulpit a sentence, which from his
tone, manner and emphasis, evidently is intended for the Dutchman of
his congregation, or rather, as Mrs. styles me, the ♦ Consistory of the
Dutch Church about to be established here.' On the first Sabbath that
Mr. resumed the duties of his pulpit (three weeks since), he made
a remark of this kind, viz : that he believed the Atonement to be suffici-
ent for the salvation of millions of Avorlds and not merely efficient for the
salvation of those that believe ; this being so palpably an imitation of your
language when expressing the contrary to the sentiment contained in the
latter clause, that it needs no seer to explain to whom he pointed, espe-
cially when taken in connection with a remark he made to a gentleman
(who resides near here) in my presence, and probably intended for my
ear. On Mr. S. enquiring of Mr. if 'Mr. Bethune could induce
all his people to believe with him in a limited Atonement : ' ' Oh,'
said he, * Brother Bethune satisfies them by saying it is sufficient for all
and efficient for the elect.' Again Mrs. says, for I have conversed
more with her upon these subjects, that you are a Triangular. Now, I
am so innocently ignorant of the virtues and the vices of a Triangular,
that I am ready to say Avith the Irish horse-jockey, who was asked if his
horse were spavined, ' Och, sure he is, if that's any advantage to him.' "
On the 9th of January, 1832, Mr. Clarke thanks his
correspondent for his views upon the nature and extent
of the Atonement, and says that they appear more rea-
sonable and consistent than any thing heretofore heard
96 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
upon it. These views are contained in a letter which, to
our great chagrin, is not forthcoming. It would be cheaply
purchased with ten or fifteen pounds of the paper stock
which has come safely to hand. Mr. Clarke writes again
May 7.
" By the way, of this same limited Atonement I am excessively desir-
ous of knowing whether the doctrine we profess, namely, the sufficiency
of the merits of the death of Christ for the salvation of all, and its effi-
ciency to the salvation of the elect, is the doctrine of the ' limited
Atonement.' The idea that I have received here of it is that Christ weighed
out, as it were, with scrupulous exactness, the amount of sin committed,
or that would be committed by the elect, and by his sufferings atoned for
that and no more. And that could we know who the elect were, we
should have no right to offer salvation to any but to them. Can it be
tliat this is the doctrine wliich so many eminent men have not been
ashamed to avow ? For fear that it should be, I will not in my ignorance
of the doctrines of tlie Bible with all their collateral bearings, presume
to impeach their wisdom. But really, if it is so, the innumerable invita-
tions that are given in the Bible, to all, to ' come and partake of the Avaters
of life freely,' appear to me very like a farce. God offering salvation to
lost men, through Christ, to all, when he has made provision for only a
part ! It appears to me perfectly consistent with the character of God
to offer salvation to all through an atonement, the merits of which, so
far as it relates to their sufficiency, are infinite ; although he knows that a
majority will absolutely refuse to have that atonement made efficient in
their salvation. But then means were provided and salvation offered ; and
man, in the free exercise of his moral agency, refused. I am Aveli aware
that my notions upon this subject are crude, and perhaps contradictory.
It is for this reason that I am now consulting my proper spiritual adviser.
I am also well aware that the weapon which many tliink proper to wield,
and which they do at times with singular force, is ridicule. A doctrine
of which, though they disbelieve it, a correct portrait might present
some points favourable to belief; they choose rather to render odious,
by making an infamous caricature. However I am thankful that I can
adopt Got. Granger's motto, ' Lux, Lex et Libertas.* Light to show me
THE ATONEMENT. 97
what the Law or doctrine is, and the Liberty of conscience to exercise my
own belief, notwithstanding I am in a hot-bed of opposition."
The answer to the above is to be found passim in the writ-
ings of Dr. Bethune. In lecture xvii. on the Heidelberg
Catechism, we read — pp. 358 et seq :
"But our Lord stood not in tJie room of a single sinner; he bore the
sins of many, and heaven opened to us by the vision of John, shows a
mighty host redeemed unto God by his blood. Hence his sufferings
were incalculably more than the sufferings of any one mere man could
have been. For though we unhesitatingly, and not without horror,
reject the idea that his sufferings were weighed out to him in exact pro-
portion to the sufferings wliich every individual of all he redeemed,
would otherwise have actually suffered ; we must see that they needed to
be so great as to justify God in taking away his wrath from all the
Sa\iour's people. It was, among other reasons, for the purpose of
strengthening our Lord's humanity to endure this accumulated aggre-
gation of suffering, that it was constituted in union with the Divme
Nature, which also gave to his sufferings their infinite value. So the
Catechism says that he sustained the wrath of God against the sins of
all mankind.
This last sentence requires some little explanation, lest its meaning
should be misunderstood, and we shall give it conformably to the com-
ments of the learned and pious Ursinus, the author of the Catechism,
and therefore the best expositor of its sense. The idea of the sentence
is that of several scriptures, as where our Lord declares that ' God so
loved the world ' as to give liis only begotten son ; and the writer to the
Hebrews, that Christ tasted death for every man ; and Paul that he gave
himself a ransom for all ; and John ' that he is a propitiation for our sins,
and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.' Yet
Scripture must be read in harmony with itself, and as we know that all
men are not actually saved, but only those who through grace being
ordained to eternal life do believe and repent, it cannot be that our Lord
bore the wrath of God against the sins of the whole world in the same
sense or degree that he bore it in the room of his people. They were
actually redeemed by his blood, he having taken the penalty they de-
7
98 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
served on himself so that their satisfaction was certainly secured by
his Ticarious satisfaction ; but the rest of mankind, though they have so
far as the gospel is preached to them opportunities of salvation, are con-
demned to death eternal without violence being done to the covenant of
the Son with the Father in the plan of. salvation.
Thus Christ died for all mankind, because in him the blessings of sal-
vation are not confined, as were those of the Abrahamic dispensation, to
one particular people. The gospel is sent throughout all the world, to
be preached to every creature, and whosoever will, be he a Jew or Gen-
tile, may take of the water of life freely. As several of the later fathers
following Tertullian phrase it, EQs merits are sufficient for all, but effi-
cient for the elect. And Aquinas, whom the Papists call the Angelical
Doctor, teaches, 'The merit of Christ, as concerns its sufficiency,
equally belongs to all men ; but as to its efficacy, the effects and fruits
of it are mercifully bestowed on some, and, by the just judgment of God,
withheld from others.' Nor can tliis be otherwise, since it were prepos-
terous to ma,ke Christ the substitute of those that refuse his representa-
tion. But it is, on the other hand, positively true, that the benefits of
Christ's merit do actually, though not in a saving degree^ extend to all
men ; because for the sake of Christ all temporal mercies come to all,
and the world is kept by his intercession from becoming a hell of ex-
treme torture and despair ; and very precious blessings, though not the
most precious, are bestowed on mankind through the restraining influ-
ence of Christianity and the light which it sheds on every mind wherever
the healing beams of the Sun of Eighteousness sliine. It is enough for
us to know that, if we believe in Christ with our whole heart, his merit
will certainly save us ; but if we refuse the grace he offi^rs, not all the
mercy of God in Christ warrants the slightest ho]pe of escape from ever-
lasting death."
We add a passage from another sermon on quite a differ-
ent subject, " The Strength of Christian Charity."
" The grace of God is infinite in the merits of Christ, the Saviour, for
they are the merits of God incarnate. It was the Son of God who walked
in all the duties of man. Who dare limit the reward of his obedience ?
CALLS. 99
It was the Son of God who dwelt in the sufferer when he drank the cup
of trembling, when it pleased the Father to bruise him and to put him to
grief, and wlien, pouring out his soul unto death, he cried, ' It is fin-
ished.' "Who dare limit the power of his atonement ? It was the Son of
God who burst the bars of death and cleft the heavens for the upward
way of the man Christ Jesus, ' to make continual intercession for us,'
not as a suppliant kneeling at his Father's feet, but as a Son and a Prince,
the true Israel sitting at the right hand of the Majesty on high. Who
dare limit the efficiency of his prayers ? "
" Other calls will not be wanting," said Mrs. J. Bethune
in the letter to her son touching the removal to Utica. To
show how true this was, let us state that in the five years
Avhich elapsed from his entering the ministry to February,
1831, there came to him of official calls, or what might have
been such, eight. To Savannah, to St. Augustine, to St. Mary's,
to Rhinebeck, to Utica, to the Market St. Church, K Y.—
This last was most earnestly backed by the letter of his
friend John Redfield.
But his heart was given to Utica, and every art of ingenu-
ity was employed that could increase his usefulness and
strengthen the Church. During the early part of 1831, great
attention was paid to the young ; and the professors and great
lights of the Dutch denomination were introduced into his
pulpit to advance the cause of sound doctrine.
Mrs. J. B. to her son, October 29, 1831. In this letter we
have notice of an early and well-known poetical efibrt.
"I have been writing and getting printed a lesson on the Mariner's
Compass. I read it to Mr, Seaton, and next day he wrote me a note
saying there was a beautiful Hymn in the ' Lyra,' which he thought
would suit to close it. I sent for it and lo and behold, it was yours :
* Tossed on life's tempestuous billow.'
I bought the Seaman's Hymn Book to get it. I had, however, pre-
pared one myself which, although not so poetical, is more suitable."
100 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
SAILOR'S HYMN.
*' Tossed upon life's raging billow,
Sweet it is, O, Lord, to know
Thou hast pressed a sailor's pillow,
And canst feel a sailor's woe.
Never slumbering, never sleeping.
Though the night be dark and drear,
Thou, the faithful watch art keeping,
' All, all's well ! ' thy constant cheer.
And though loud the wind is howling,
Fierce, though flash the lightnings red,
Darkly, though the storm cloud's scowling,
O'er the sailor's anxious head ;
Thou canst calm the raging ocean,
All its noise and tumult still,
Hush the billow's wild commotion.
At the bidding of thy will.
Thus my heart the hope will cherish.
While to heaven I lift mine eye.
Thou wilt save me ere I perish.
Thou wilt hear me when I cry ;
And, though mast and sail be riven.
Life's short voyage soon be o'er.
Safely moored in Heaven's wide haven.
Storms and tempests vex no more."
We are at a loss to imagine how the Editor of the very
popular " Songs of the Sanctuary" came to insert this hymn
under the number 1322 as " anonymous." His taste in this
direction is faultless and we cannot believe that he had seen
the original, or the amendments upon Dr. Bethune would
scarcely have been permitted. The alteration, we admit, is
for the better, and yet question the propriety of even such a
change. We want the master's work as he left it. Men
may copy a picture, but it is a shame to retouch it.
LETTERS. 101
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. '* Utica, Novemher 25, 1831.
My congregation is in a very quiet state, too much so I fear. My
heart, rather desponding, probably owing to bodily indisposition. I
find my duties exceedingly arduous. The Lord, however, is, I trust,
my everlasting strength. I am charmed with the Inf\int School lessons
■which appear from week to week in the Messenger. I read them all,
and believe that I receive benefit from them."
Answer to the above, 28th Nov.
" New York, Novemher 28, 1831.
My Beloved Son: — I have this day yours of 25th instant, and
grieve to hear that you are not well, either in body or mind. How could
you fly about when you had so heavy a cold? Mr. Nasmith told me you
were out at the meeting when you were very unwell. I pray God to re-
store you and spare your precious life. I often tremble when I think
how many of your companions have already finished their course and I
cry out, 0, that my son might be spared and live before God. O, George,
for your poor, solitary, widowed mother's sake, for your dear Mary's
sake, two at least, whose comfort in this world is wrapt up in you, take
care of yourself. My darling son, my heart is pained and my eyes over-
flow when I write; would that I could fly to you and hold your aching
head and cheer your desponding heart. I hope you are not so bad as
my fears represent. O, my son, look to Jesus for strength, where alone
it can be found. Eemember him who endured. In hiui is abundant
fulness for all you want. I wish you would give up one service on the
Sabbath. It is too much."
" Iron sharpeneth iron, so a man sharpeneth the counte-
nance of his friend."
" A man " (aye every inch) writes from Canajoharie, 16th
April, to " his friend" in Utica.
" My Dear Brother :— I received yournote of invitation yesterday —
and at first I almost imagined myself reading the 'Lamentations of
Jeremiah.' What is the matter? Is your church in a state of dilapida-
tion, or had vou got a little touch of the hyp ? Your station is undoubt-
102 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
edly one of great importance and the prosperity of your church will
exert an extensive influence upon the surrounding churches. It must, in
time, become the Metropolis of the "West. But, '■Nil desperandum,''
Eome was not built in a day. Neither your Master in heaven nor the
church on earth expect that you will do more than your thought and
abilities enable you to do. Preach Christ and Him crucified, and if in
the end the ship is wrecked and the cargo lost you may cling to some
floating plank and escape — or if you all founder together — your
' hands will be clean from the blood of all men.' But report says that
your church is flourishing — increasing in numbers — in popularity — in
influence, and that your labors are highly acceptable to the people and
signally blessed of God. I cannot subscribe to one sentence of your let-
ter — ' that the Ministry of the church should appear to advantage in
Utica.' They should be the faithful heralds of Salvation — the world
over — wherever they go they should be about their ' Father's business'
and, in Utica and every other place, leave the impression upon the minds
of all — that they watch for souls as they who must give an account. If,
as a church, we had far less of the spirit of unhallowed rivalry and vast-
ly more of the self-denj'ing and self-sacrificing spirit of Paul, the smiles
of Heaven would shine upon us more brightly. But Utica has seen the
very flower of the flock, the very quintessence of Dutch Reformed
celebrity, the choice spirits of the day. Did not our men of renov^u
come all the way up the Hudson and the Mohawk to edify, astonish and
delight the inhabitants of these western wilds by their wisdom and their
eloquence? Now, if the citizens of Utica are not deeply impressed with
the conviction, that the Dutch Church abounds in talent of the first
water, Pauls and ApoUoses, then they must be stupid as oxen and ig-
norant as asses ; or if these Anakims have failed to leave such an im-
pression, what can such little men as compose the Classis of Montgom-
ery do? Kansford Wklls."
Tliis little correspondence speaks for itself.
It may be well to quote entire a specimen of our minister's
style of pastoral letter-writing in 1831, in order to a compari-
son with bis later efforts of the same kind.
To Miss S. B. M. and M. A. V. '' Utica, 1831.
My Dear Young Ladies : — It is long since I promised myself the
A pastor's letter. 103
pleasure of addressing you — and more than once have I commenced a
ietter, but have been called away from the pleasing engagement by the
many and various duties of my arduous office.
To say that I miss you is but poorly to express the reality. My heart
goes after my absent lambs whenever I am reminded of your absence —
I miss you from the church, the lecture room and the prayer- meeting,
where you were over glad to be — I miss you from the choir which you
joined at my request — I miss you from the Sabbath scliool, to whose
establishment and success you contributed so largely — I miss you from
tlie Bible class, where you were ever attentive and well-informed — I
miss you from your homes where you ever welcomed me with pleasure
— I miss you in my walks where I so often met your smiling faces — I
do not forget you, my sweet young friends — but many a prayer is sent
up to God on your behalf, as well from the meetings of God's saints as
from my lonely study.
I thank God, that though absent from me, I can bring you in my faith to
Him who is everywhere present, and rejoice in hopes that the Shepherd
of Israel will watch my precious lambs.
I am very anxious for your welfare — your advantages are, indeed,
many — but many also are your temptations. Eemember the first, the
highest object of your desire should be ' the Kingdom of God and His
righteousness.' All things else will be vain without this blessing. And
all tilings else that are truly profitable will be added to it. You cannot
have forgotten how earnestly and repeatedly, I endeavored to impress
this upon your minds, neither can you have forgotten how seriously for
a considerable time at least, it occupied your thoughts. May I hope
that it is still the object of your care?
Have not your new pursuits changed the current of your thoughts to
other channels ? Have not new companions, new amusements, and new
cares distracted your thoughts of God ? Let me entreat you to guard
against these dangers. The soul, the soul, my young friends, the undy-
ing soul, what can compensate for its loss ! Make that your first care,
and all other cares subservient. Let me earnestly request you to com-
mence and close each day with private and personal devotion. I know
you will have difficulties in the way : the want of sufficient privacy and
punctual regard to necessary regulations of your school. But where
there is a will, God generally grants a way. When I speak of devotion,
104 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
I do not mean merely prayer. Other duties are necessary to give prayer
its proper character and efficacy. Self-examination for the past, and
arrangement for the future will be found necessary to teach you gratitude
and repentance, and the need of counsel and strength from on high.
* Sum up at night what you have done by day,
And in the morning what thou hast to do.'
Then read a portion of Scripture ; it need not be long, indeed had better
be short. Consider well its meaning ; meditate upon its practical
lessons ; apply them to yourselves. Then, with a heart thus prepared,
you may pray with profit, for you will pray with the understanding. Es-
pecially ask God's blessing upon your studies and pursuits. If unsanc-
tified by Divine grace, they will prove curses and not blessings. If pos-
sible, have one text upon which to meditate during the day. Above all,
cultivate repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Clu-ist.
Thus living, you will live with God, to God, in God, and God will live
in you.
I will write you, I hope, soon again, but shall expect an answer to
prove my letters are welcome. Mrs. B. is enjoying very good health,
for her, and sends her warm love to you. All our other friends are
well. Yours aflfectionately,
Geo. "W. Bethune."
In the summer of 1832 the city of Utica had a terrible vis-
itation of the Cholera. The wealthy citizens deserted the
place and nearly all the ministers of religion fled, Mr. Be-
thune being one of two faithful exceptions. Projects of aid
to the sick and dying were formed but there were none to
execute them, and much of the work devolved on the minis-
ters themselves. Our pastor was indefatigable. One day
going his rounds he found a person sitting on a bridge with
strong symptoms of the cholera, and asked, " Can I help
you home ?" The poor man gasped, '' I have been turned
out to die.'' Kind arms were put around him and he was
borne to the parsonage. The physician said, " We will have
hard work to save him;" but the case yielded to active treat-
THOMAS BUCHANAN. 105
ment, and the pains ceased. He proved to be a clergyman,
who had come to visit a brother, but not finding him had
put up at the hoteL Feeling in the night that he was ill,
and calling for help, he was ordered to leave the house ; and
he laid down to die with anxiety lest it should be thought
that his death was caused by drink, as his breath was strong
with brandy, taken for his disease. Many expressions of
gratitude were given by this discijile of Christ for the merci-
ful kindness shown to a stranger. For three months the
plague lasted.
Several meetings were held in behalf of the Colonization
cause, at which appeared a young man in a homespun white
coat, who, by his sensible remarks and deep interest, attracted
general attention, but none knew him. After a while White-
coat presented to Mr. Bethune a letter of introduction, recom-
mending him as a pious young man, desiring to enter the
ministry, but without means of support. The liberal pastor
at once became his patron, offered him a home and the use of
his library, and he became a pleasant member of the family.
White-coat proved to be Thomas Buchanan. He followed
Mr. Bethune to Philadelphia, but there abandoned the purpose
of the ministry, and became the zealous and wise Governor
of Liberia, and laid broad and deep the foundations of the
African Republic. Such flowers of charity made beautiful
all the path of our minister.
Mr. Buchanan died at Bassa Cove, in Sept., 1841. His pas-
tor grieved for him as a brother, and exclaimed, " I regard my
early and intimate acquaintance with Buchanan as one of the
chief blessings for which I should give thanks to God." At
the request of the Colonization Society, Dr. Bethune pre-
pared a Memorial of his life and death, which has been pre-
served.
Returning now to his private life, we find him longing after
106 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
and rejoicing at the prospect of a wider S23here of action. A
plan is proposed by his friend Varick of building a large
church for him in New York. He revels in the idea of a
"metropolitan post away from the pettiness of a village life,"
and where his " time would not be cut all to pieces with tri-
fling engagements." As this plan never went into realization,
we need not discuss it ; but it elicits a valuable letter to his
mother, on the 13th December, 1832, in which remarks upon
this matter and family affairs are so mixed up as to make the
above brief abstract all that can with propriety be placed here.
" But he was writing to his mother," as he fondly says.
The months pass on. He is written to for sermons to pub-
lish in a volume for the use of sailors at sea.
Dr. Spencer asks for advice on the question, whether he shall
assume the Presidency of Hamilton College. His house is
not comfortable, and he would fain buy a new one for 86000.
He is urged by his mother to commence the memoir of his
father, in order that she may aid him in it before she " de-
camps over Jordan."
He suffers from illness and consequent depression of spirits,
thinks " his prospects of usefulness are very dark, and the
fondness for nature, for which he was so well known, is his
comfort in this every-day annoyance, and for which he gets
so little sympathy.
About this date, too, occurred an event which brought
great trial upon the minister's future life. A severe fall in the
street occasioned injury to Mrs. Bethune, from which she
never recovered, rendering her a confirmed invalid, and
often a great sufferer.
On the 28th October, 1833, he writes:
" It is now more than autumn with us, it is almost winter, and would
be quite so in any other climate. The air to-day has been filled with
TWENT Y-E rOHT . 107
snow, which melted as it fell. I can only enjoy the scene from my win-
dow, but the leafless trees and the sombre sky, with all their melancholy
accompaniments, though sad and soothing, seem to have a common
sympathy; at least I am sure I love tliis season better than I could
spring. I am becoming very fond of nature ; it has a good influence
on me. I am persuaded there is more of conscience than of romance in
my awakened fondness for tliis first book of the Creator's hand. I think
(I may be deceived, but I do think) my desire for doing good to my fel-
loAv-men increases, and my love to my race increases, but I have cer-
tainly much less fondness for society (as such) than I have had. I find
it more than made up in nature, my books, and communion with my
God. We are so liable to be misunderstood and hardly judged in our
most aflfectionate attempts to serve others."
Again he wiites :
"I am getting on in years, — twenty-eight ! and what have I done?
Alas ! how much of life is made up of littlenesses and trifles, seemingly
of importance at the moment, but as notliing in the retrospect. Tlie
ambitions, the jealousies, the strifes and the formalities of time, how do
they keep the mind from eternity. And even we who are set apart for
the altar, how much time is spent in mere professional arrangements, —
making new theories and combating them, — contending and intriguing
for power. Eternity ! It seems as if that one word were enough to
check all such vain imaginations. I have no wonder that more people
become not Christians, when the Church busies herself with trifles ; my
only wonder is, that men do not stumble at our folly, and fall forever.
What will Duffield's big book on Regeneration, and all the pamphlets for
and against, weigh with one single soul ? For my part I abandon contro-
versy. I am determined to walk in the plain, obvious path of duty, study-
ing the Scriptures as a child rather than a pliilosopher, and endeavouring
to win souls for my Master."
In the early part of December of this year the information
of a unanimous call to the church of Poughkeepsie gave a
tuni to his ideas. Perhaps there was a little wish that was
father to the thought when he hints that his days of useful-
108 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. CETHUNE, D. D.
ness in Utica are over, but the unfailing counsellor in New
York is ready with her advice.
''Jan. 6, 1834.
I have thonght that a church that kept the good man who labored
twenty-five years among them, with a growing family, on a pittance of
$ 1000, while they can offer a young one $ 1400, cannot be a very liberal
people. You would enter upon a people already formed, and habits
fiscd. They would expect all the attentions they were wont to receive,
and your popular talents also. You might, indeed, not be under the ne-
cessity of studying so hard, and use your old sermons, but would that be
conducive to your own growth in the divine life? Many other tilings
occur to my mind connected with your query, ' How shall I leave my
little people ? ' How indeed I A little flock gathered together by your
instrumentality, for whom I trust you have travailed in birth for their
souls, who love you for your Master's sake and their own sake, who prize
your good qualities and make allowance for your faults, who have no
former pastor to lead them to make comparisons.
Your next query, ' Who would take my place I know not; ' neither do
I; but this I know, they would be provided for, as long as these words
stand in the Bible, ' I will never leave you nor forsake you.' Many of
them, I know, think the church would go down if you leave them ; they
trembled at the idea of your leaving them even for the winter. I saw
Mr. Varick on Friday. He fairly trembled when he asked me if you had
received the call, adding, ' if he accept it the church will go down.' I
begged him to write to you ; he said he would be in Utica, D. V., tliis
week.
The next tiling you mention, that your days of usefulness are done.
It is not true. You would not be so popular if they were. There may
be a dry and dead time, to quicken you to greater diligence ; to lead you
more to look to Him who alone can direct the arrow of conviction, apply
the word preached, to build up ; and the balm of Gilead to heal the
wounded conscience. What cannot prayer do ? As to the other reason,
' that you would be nearer me,' I have ' not dared to trust my heart ' ; but
neither that nor salary ought to weigh one moment with you. The for-
mer, your present people will probably increase
Your dear father, grandmother, and your own mother * lent you unto the
Lord all the days of your life,' and solitary as your widowed mother now
TEMPERANCE MOVEMENTS. 109
sits, she would not take back the loan, nor interfere by any wish of hers
to take you from or keep you in any place where the Lord's Avork is to
be done by you."
In the year 1833 a discussion took place generally known
as the "Wine Controversy," in which our minister bore a
prominent part, and which involved him in much unpleasant-
ness. At this distance of time we may strive in vain to
awaken interest in the episode ; but prejudice Avill have died
away, and as the occasion served to display much of the man,
and led him to take a position on the great moral ques-
tion from which he never swerved, we shall, from the faith-
ful papers before us, draw " a round unvarnished tale," and
shall
"Nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice.''
The Temperance movement was now taking a more radical
position. Before it had aimed its blow simply at ardent spirits,
now its advocates would forbid the use of all fermented
liquors. In November, 1833, Mr. Bethune was, in his
capacity as chairman of the Young Men's Temperance So-
ciety of Oneida County, a delegate to the Convention of the
fiiends of Temperance, held in Utica. In the course of dis-
cussion, a resolution was offered that the drinking of wine
and beer, as well as ardent spirits, was noxious, and denounc-
ed by the sacred writers. Mr. Bethune opposed this resolution
on grounds of Scripture and expediency. The speech must
have been eloquent and powerful, as it was feared that it
would cause the loss of the resolution. It must have possessed
much asperity, if we judge from the only quotation before us,
"The drunkard who refuses to give up his liquor because you
do not give up your wine, is not honest. If he tells you that
is the reason, he lies." He was answered by Dr. Speed, an-
110 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Other delegate, y/ho remarked that it was the young clergy-
man's own fondness for wine, and his disinclination to give
up its use, which prompted his opposition. Allusion was made
to a certain occasion, when the delegate, who just sat down,
had indulged ia a glass of beer, and an impression was left
on the mind of the assembly that this kind of indulgence
was a matter of habit. A common report was also mention-
ed that the Dutch pastor's table was loaded with different
kinds of wine. This attack was met, and the assertion pas-
sionately repudiated by Mr. B. The resolution was indefi-
nitely postponed by an overwhelming vote, and another pro-
posed, with special reference to the attack, regretting its
personal allusions, and censuring its injurious imputations,
and passed by acclamation. At the close of the meeting,
the clergyman and physician met on friendly terms, and the
former proposed, as a peace offering, to join in supplying the
other's village with the Temperance Recorder. Thus the affair
ended. But on Nov. 29th, Dr. Speed wrote to Mr. Bethune a
copious letter, in which he apologizes for the attack, and
hopes that the two are friends ; and still he reiterates his
remarks, and supports them by the sayings of others, and
in fact, opens anew the whole controversy.
Meanwhile Mr. Bethune addressed E. C. Delavan, Esq.,
protesting against the latter for having '* called the time " to
arrest him in his passionate disclaimer of the injurious im-
putation, and requests such statements in the Temperance
Journal, as shall convince the friends of the writer, that he
(Mr. D.) regretted the occurence.
Quickly Mr. Bethune replied to Dr. S., dated Dec. 6, 1833.
"Allow me to state in commencement that it was not the ridiculous
charge of taking a glass of beer that drew from me the expression of in-
dignant feelings ; but the insinuation, nay, broad assertion that it was
THE WIXE CONTROVERSY. HI
through unwillingness to abandon the use of wine myself, that I was
led to oppose the resolution. I had expressly and solemnly stated that
there existed no such unwillingness on my part. My language, as re-
ported by the New York Evangelist, was as follows :
' Sir, I do not plead for the liberty of using wine ; so impressed am I
with the importance of the Temperance Reformation, that I am willing
to go the whole if necessary. It would be no sacrifice to me. I confess
that I do occasionally make use of it, but seldom, however.' Notwith-
standing this positive and repeated declaration, you did not hesitate to
lament ' that I could not make so small a sacrifice.' Sir, this represen-
tation of my motives was charging me with falsehood."
After denying any use of beer, he proceeds :
" Now, Sir, can no man differ from you upon a question of expediency
without guilt or criminal motives ? ]My difficulties are Scriptural and
remain unanswered and unanswerable. If they are not, why did not
you or some one else answer them ? Mr. Dwight, of Geneva, said at
tea, 'that all the argument was upon my side, the only question was
present expediency.' I have abandoned wine, beer, and cider, myself,
but do not see how I can condemn a proper occasional use of them in
others. Here we differ. Is your opinion the sole test of sound truth
and moral honesty? God promised to bless the vineyards of the Jews.
Why ? Two thirds of Palestine were devoted to the cultivation of the
vine and olive. Our Saviour made wine ; He instituted its use in the
Eucharist, and in many Scriptures its use is expressly recommended and
enjoined. Wine countries are proverbially temperate. I resided once
for some time among a wine-drinking people, and never saw a drunkard.
I do not believe that the common people can ever be persuaded to use
water alone. By demanding it of them and placing every drink upon
the same footing, you do, I conscientiously believe, retard if not ruin
the cause.
I have not been an idler in the Temperance cause. Like Paul, when
unjustly accused, I may boast. No man in the country, excepting Mr.
Stewart, has laboured more in the cause of Temperance. In 1828 I
preached upon the principle of Total Abstinence, when scarce a man in
Dutchess County spoke out in favour of Temperance but myself. The
sermon was printed. The Temperance Societies at Rome printed my
112 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
address in February last. The Circular of the Young Men's County-
Temperance Society was -written by myself. I am a member of that So-
ciety's Executive Committee. I am Chairman of a committee of eight-
een who have gone a great way toward placing the pledge before every
person in the county. I am Chairman of the Young Men's State Cen-
tral Committee. In the communion of the church over which I preside,
not a single person is engaged in the traffic in ardent spirits. Months
have passed since I drank wine, except in one instance, . . . My
experience has been that of my Master, to be called, unjustly, ' a wine-
bibber and a gluttonous man, a friend of publicans and sinners."
Now, singularly enough, the two disputants referred their
difficulty to Mr. Gerrit Smith, who decided that our minister
had laid himself open to suspicion by his course in Conven-
tion, combined with the fact that he had not given up wine,
but must always think that Dr. Speed's remarks had better
have been made in the private ear of Mr. Bethune.
The next letter from Dr. Speed takes advantage of the
impetuosity of his correspondent, complains of the reopen-
ing of the controversy, and declares that Mr. B. had mistaken
the spirit of his epistle. Whereupon Bethune rejoins with
spirit : —
*' January 3d, 1844.
You seem to complain that I had ripped open an account settled. I
had considered that account settled. You, sir, would never have heard
a word from me on the matter. But in your letter the account was laid
open. I had supposed yourself satisfied. I had supposed the Conven-
tion satisfied in my favor. You, then, in your letter took pains not to
apologise for, but to justify your act, not to show sorrow for my out-
raged feelings, but to bring the testimony of other anonymous persons
that I deserved it all. You thus proved to me that so far from having
expiated the offence by the apology you offered, many still remained
convinced from your testimony that I was a common swiller of such
stuff*, and that my objection to the wine question was not conscientious
but personal. All this may have been done with good intentions, nay, I
believed it was done with such, but one may have good intentions towards
LETTER TO DR. SPEED. 113
a criminal ; and as a criminal was I treated, nay as the basest of criminals,
a hypocritical falsifier of pretences. For I repeat, to believe I opposed
the question from any other than conscientious motives, is to make me
such. Had I then no cause for indignation at knowing that my good
name had been injured in the estimation of individuals whom I never
may see again and of whose names I am studiously kept in ignorance ?
But for those statements of your own of the injurious eflfects of your
charge upon my character, I would never have dreamed of asking any
further apology, for I had deemed yours before the Convention was
sufficient and also that yourself would have been my vindicator after
what you had said.
Even at this late day I cannot conceive the reason of your statement
in Convention. I cannot imagine what it was intended to effect. Cer-
tainly to attack the character of a prominent friend of temperance (as
you are pleased to term me), is not the way to sustain the cause. But
you assert that your motives were good and I believe you. It is, how-
ever, faith entirely. Sight hath nothing to do with it
My views with regard to the wine question, though a water drinker my-
self, remain unchanged. If you push that question I believe you will
ruin the cause. ... So thought the majority of our Convention. So
thought the Connecticut Convention. If I err, I err in good company,
or, do we all love our wine too well to be honest ?
I shall be extremely happy in any way to testify my esteem for you,
and again assert that the doubt of my candor by so respectable an
individual as Dr. Speed gave me more pain than anything else.
With sentiments of unfeigned regard and respect,
I am yours,
George W. Bethune.'*
But he now has to deal with Mr. Delavan. This gentle-
man's course in the conduct of the Temperance Kecorder,
was calculated to misrepresent the action of the Convention.
Mr. Bethune addresses him, declaring the resolution to be
^' unwise, proscriptive and unscriptural, slanderous to the
character of our blessed Master, and damnatory of the very
regulations of God."
8
114 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Mr. Bethune disclaims any judgment of Mr. Delavan's
motives, but says that his course was unfair and unwise.
"You will gain the victory," the pastor says. " There is fanaticism
enough to carry it. But you will ruin your cause. "We have done well
here for two years past, or rather for the past year. But I tremble for
the future. Look at your own city ! behind us all, and in consequence
of ultraism. A verdict over the dead body of the Temperance cause
will soon be taken and it will be felo de se. Its epitaph is written.
'Died of the evil it opposed, — intemperance.' I do not know that I
shall write against the question. I am unwilling to court more abuse,
but I do trust that God will yet deliver us from ourselves."
To leave no stone unturned, a letter is written on the same
day, 2Tth Jan., by our eager debater to his friend, Mr. Hop-
kins, urging him to suggest some means of stopping the
wine question. " We are almost unanimous here in Utica,''
he says, '' but the country members, in their honest but
ignorant heat will all be led astray. We have seen an end
^of all perfection ; I had begun to make the temperance cause
an idol.''
Such was the reward of his fidelity to a good cause. Be-
cause he could not utter the Shibboleth of the party, because
he could not take the most extreme views, because he could
not do that which reason and conscience alike forbade, he
was subject to denunciation. It cannot be doubted that the
accusation which was withdrawn by those who preferred it,
still existed in the public mind ; and a man, who, above most
others, lived soberly, righteously and godly, acquired the re-
putation of a free-liver. Yet, we who love his memory re-
joice that this controversy took place. His vehemence, his
asperity, nay, even his mistakes, were the results of strong
conviction and deep earnestness. He uttered the words ^
that rose to his lips, not because they were expedient, but be-
COLONIZATION SPEECH. 115
cause they were right. His judgment was rarely wrong in
any matter brought fully before it ; his eye was single, and his
whole body was full of light. It is fortunate that Time was
to try the issue. This unfallible judge has vindicated his
wisdom and justified his precision. Experience has shown
that the cause of Temperance would be better off to-day had
his conservative counsel been followed.
As there had been a division among the friends of Temper-
ance, so about this period there was a separation of those
who were devoted to the welfare of the negro, the parties
forming the Anti-Slavery and Colonization Societies. Mr.
Bethune, according to the turn of his mind, went with the
Conservative section, and in May, 1834, he repaired to New
York to speak on the Colonization Anniversary. The Anti-
Slavery meeting had been held on the preceding day, and
as it had been quite successful, some friend who met Bethune
at the wharf, informed him that his speech could do no good,
as his favorite society was dead. But his fame had preced-
ed him, and the announcement of his coming drew together
an audience unusual in size and splendor. It was an as-
sembly of the beauty and fashion of New York. He took
advantage of the occasion in the following witty style : —
"After my arrival in town, where I expected to meet a friend whom
I had known for several years, and whom I was anxious to meet again,
I was informed, to my grief and consternation, that he was dead and
buried; for that the funeral obsequies of the American Colonization
Society were attended yesterday. But when I behold this numerous
audience, it seems as if there had been a resurrection, — for it is a col-
lection of the most beautiful corpses I ever saw. They remind me of
two lines of the poet : —
' On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending,
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.'
116 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Nor can I forget an anecdote that I heard in my boyhood, that may
well apply to the premature interment by the reverend pastor of the
Spring street Church yesterday. An old lady took it into her head that
her husband was about to die, and proceeded to the undertaker's to
procure the necessary apparatus for the burial, — accordingly, says tlie
couplet : —
* Forth went the good lady to buy him a coffin,
But when she came back, she found him a-laughing.'"
He spoke of the course taken by the Abolitionists to the
Colonization Society.
The speech is represented as one of great power ; but the
reports are so imperfect as to render them unworthy of re-
production.
The month of August, 1834, saw the last of Mr. Bethune's
labors in Utica, and the church which he had built up and
made so strong was to be occupied by another. From the
previous date no event of special interest is noted in his
papers. We willingly take it for granted, that the latter
part of his ministry was like the beginning ; zealous, able,
and useful to an unusual degree.
Again we resort to the valuable memorial of H. K. Clarke,
Esq.
"Mr. Bethune's attention, most diligently and skillfully bestowed
upon all the details of pastoral labor, by which his people might be
benefitted or the welfare of his congregation promoted, did not fail to
^reduce the most gratifying results. In the organization of the Sunday
school, he was made its Superintendent, and though the practical
details required of this office were performed by his assistants, yet his
superintendency was real and constant, and those who remember it
will add, delightful. By making the lessons of the Sabbath school and
of the Bible class, which he conducted upon an evening during the
week, identical, he became the teacher of the teachers, and thus left the
impression of his teaching upon the whole school each week.
IITS SABBATH SCHOOL. 117
"During the first year of his ministry in Utica, and while the health of
Mrs. Bethune permitted, she was also actively engaged in teaching the
' Infant ' department of the Sabbath school. The method of instruction
employed by her was then a novelty; but it was the most at-
tractive feature of the exhibition or examination of the school which
took place annually on Christmas. These occasions afforded an oppor-
tunity for the exercise of the fine talent which Mr. Bethune possessed
for lyrical composition. For such occasions he was never unprepared.
Many of his contributions to the interest of such and similar services
are still known and cherished by thousands who have no knowledge of
their authorship. Floating through the various hymn and tune-books
employed by Christian people, some of them like the hymn so popular
among sailors,
' Tossed upon life's raging billow,'
attributed in the collection to 'Anonymous,' these sacred lyrics have
not only done delightful service in swelling the flow of pious emotion m
Christian hearts, but they reflect also the sweet spirit of their author.
They prove that he, — to express the thought in his own words, was
* Like him God loved, the sweet-tongued psalmist,
Who found in harp and holy lay,
The charm that keeps the spirit calmest.'
While thus the pastor and his wife were actively employed in the
Sabbath school, neither were wanting in the, manifestation of a kindly
zeal in all the plans of minor moments, by which the school might be
rendered more useful, or the scholars be gratified. Anything that
would appropriately accomplish these objects was neither too tnflmg
nor undignified to enlist the quick sympathy of Mr. Bethune. On a
Friday evening previous to the Fourth of July, which was to occur on
the following Monday, the teachers of the Sabbath school were assem-
bled to make arrangements for the participation of the school m a
general celebration of this anniversary by the schools of the city. Mr.
Bethune overheard an expression of regret that the school would be
obliged to appear without a banner, while it was known that several
other schools had handsomely-painted banners that had been prepared
for former occasions. He interrupted these regrets with ' Why can't we
have a banner?' 'Because there is not time to get one painted; this
is Friday evening and the celebration will be on Monday.' ' There is
118 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
time enough,' he replied * all we want is a simple field of white silk, —
white, to indicate the purity of the gospel you are called to teach, in-
scribed Ilosanna! the shout of the children as they greeted the Saviour
in the Temple, surrounded by a fringe of orange, the Dutch color, and
we shall have a banner, at once appropriate and descriptive.' And ap-
pointing two of the young ladies to procure the thread and do the
needle-work, and one of the young men to procure the staff and the
lettering, that arrangement for the coming celebration was made. The
banner was completed on Saturday afternoon, and, in its place on
Monday, it fully vindicated the ready wit and pure taste of its designer.
During the first year of Mr. Bethune's service in the church at Utica,
that remarkable exhibition of the power of the Spirit, which will be
recognized as the great revival of 1831, was felt in his as in other
churches in that region. The absence of the * new measures ' in the
services of the Dutch church did not hinder the work of the Spirit there.
Nor did the employment of these measures in other churches interrupt
the genial flow of Christian feeling, nor mar the harmony with which all
denominations joined to praise God for the manifest tokens of favor,
which these scenes displayed. During this revival, the pastor of the
Second Presbyterian church. Dr. Lansing, was called to mourn the
decease of his wife. The session of his church desiring to relieve their
pastor from his public duties on the Sabbath following that event, invited
Mr. Bethune to conduct the morning service. He promptly complied.
It was a memorable and most interesting service. Tliis young ' preacher
of smooth things,' this * antinomian,' this ' individual from a certain city,
a circumlocution applied to him with injurious comments in a religious
paper printed in the city, was now to conduct the worship of a congrega-
tion where the prejudice against him was the strongest. The circum-
stances, however, were propitious. The hearts of the people were
subdued by the bereavement which they felt in the liveliest sympathy
with their pastor. The presence of the Spirit as displayed in the
conversion of sinners had drawn all who loved the Spirit and his work
into close communion. It was to such a congregation, surrounded by
such influences, that Mr. Bethune performed that memorable half-day's
service, and those who remember with what pathos and power his soul
went forth in the utterances of the simple truths of the Gospel, and
what a wealth of tenderness he had in store for all who needed the
ministries of consolation, will not wonder why that service was a memor-
LOVE FOR THE CIIURCH. 119
able one to all who participated in it or witnessed any of its effects.
On the succeeding Sabbath, the members of the Second church crowded
the lecture-room of the Dutch church at the morning prayer-meeting,
to overflowing; and the kindly recognitions of brotherhood in Christ,
which were there interchanged, removed forever the asperity of feeling
which had before existed. Differing opinions were doubtless still held
with the earnestness of conviction ; but the injunction to * love the
brethren,' was now remembered and obeyed.
The communion seasons in the Dutch church, in the months of
January and April 1831, were signalized by large accessions to the
church of the fruits of the revival ; and if souls converted are ' crowns
of rejoicing and seals to the ministry,' of those'who were instrumental
in producing the gracious results, then great will be the rejoicings of
pastor and people in the great Day, for the wisdom and tenderness and
faithfulness by which the new communicants at these seasons, were led
first to the cross and then to the table of the Lord.
' My heart clings,' he writes in September 1834, after his removal to
Philadelx)hia, to one who had been brought into the church under his
instrumentality during the revival of 1831. ' My heart clings to dear,
dear Utica, the scene of so many trials and joys, the place of warm
friendships and bitter opposition. When I forget her, my right hand will
have forgotten its cunning, and my tongue will cleave to the roof of my
mouth. Dear little church ! Peace be within her walls and plenteous-
ness within her dwellings, for my brethren's and my companions' sakes, I
will now say ' peace be within thee.' '
And again in July, 1842, he writes, 'what a pleasant thing it is
to know that our (it is still ours^ little church at Utica is quite
filled up. God's blessing be upon it. I must visit th€m this summer
if permitted.' "
It is difficult to follow up all the efforts of his stirring life.
Letters show that he was diligent in extending his denomin-
ation through western New York, and the churches in that
district made continual appeals to him for help, and before
leaving the city, he had devised large educational plans, by
which he thought to strengthen the Dutch interest.
120 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Two or three Utica anecdotes and we will go with him to
Philadelphia. In the course of his ministration at Utica, Dr.
B. at one time caught a breath of dissatisfaction on the part
of certain individuals in his congregation at something he
had said or done. It was mere gossip, but his extreme sen-
sibility was at once alarmed; and agitated he hastened to
his friend Rathbone, one of the consistory, and besought him
to say wherein he had sinned. The counsellor knew that it
was all trifling gossip, not worth a second thought, and quiet-
ed his minister's iears by telling him so. In due time,
Bethune applied again for advice on a like occasion, and ex-
acted a promise from his adviser, that should any, even un-
conscious, steps from the paths of strict decorum be discov-
ed by Mr. Rathbone, he would instantly and frankly tell his
friend of them. Within a few weeks, the Dominie was
again in great alarm at his friend's office. He must have
done something wrong 1 He was ready to h umble himself and
ask forgiveness first of his God, and next of his people, if he
could only know what it was. " Well," said Rathbone with
amazing solemnity, "I am obliged to tell you that you have
at last been guilty of a very bad action, a dereliction of
duty, sacrilegious and increditable, committed on the Sab-
bath day, and on your way to the sacred desk ! " " Do my
dear friend, if you love me," said the other, " tell me what
it is I I know I am a thoughtless, wicked creature, but I will
ask and deserve my people's forgiveness, if I may only know
my fault." "Well, I suppose I must tell you," said Rath-
bone, without moving a muscle. " When you were going
up the steps of the church, last Sunday morning, I was
within twenty feet of you, and saw the act myself, you dare
not deny it, you took two steps at once ! "
It is related of Dr. Bethune that he did not trouble his
friend Rathbone with any more cases of conscience.
THE LOOK OF JiEPIJOOF. 121
When stopping at a hotel in Utica, a gentleman found
himself, in a moment of excitement, betrayed into the use of
an oath. Turning round, he discovered that Mr. Bethune
was present, who met him with such a look of sorrow,
mingled with tenderness, as overwhelmed him. It had more
effect than the most powerful sermon. Not a word was
spoken, it was only a look, and yet, the person relates that
never in his life had he felt so reproved and penitent.
To the facetious belongs the following note from Dr.
Cummins, the celebrated Romish priest :
Rev. Me. Bethuke. "Utica, Nov. 2, 1831.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — As I was returning home, this evening, after
our very agreeable party at I\Ir. Devereux's, and pleasantly indulging
my fancy on the subject of the first meeting of his reverend guests, a
very singular and amusing idea crossed my mind. As you love a joke
I would have gone back immediately, and presented you this trifle with
all its laughing levity still fresh about it ; but on reflecting that it be-
longed to the class of riddles, I thought it better not to set your wits
a-hunting for the answer, at a moment when you were, perhaps, enjoy-
ing the luxury of the segar, to which you so politely invited me, or pre-
paring for a comfortable nap after dinner.
If you don't soon find out the answer to my riddle, you may consult
our other two reverend friends, as you Avill perceive that the literary
fame of each of us four is equally interested in the solution of this most
important question :
Query. — Why must Mr. Devereux's reverend guests of this day be
recognized by every scholar, at the very first sound of their names, as
the four most eminent and leading characters in the modern Republic of
letters ?
Je vous le donne a deviner en quatre, as the French say. En at-
tendant, veuillez agreer, mon cher Monsieur, mes respectueux senti-
ments. Cummins."
The fourth gentleman of the party was the Rev. Mr,
Adams of the Presbyterian church.
122 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
CHAPTER VI.
SETTLING IN PHILADELPHIA WANDERINGS IN EUROPE.
Towards the middle of March, 1834, Mr. Bethune receiv-
ed a letter, which was meant to sound him as to whether he
was inclined to be a candidate for the pulpit lately vacated
in Philadelphia, by the death of the Rev. G. R. Livingston.
This prospect of change was the more welcome, as the cold
climate of Utica was telling upon the health of his wife, and
the medical advice which was thus rendered necessary, was
to be obtained in Philadelphia. Added to this, good minis-
terial society, books, scientific lectures and ease of communi-
cation with New York, all combined to tempt him to change.
The proposal v/as taken into serious consideration, and Mrs.
Joanna Bethune's sage opinions were, as usual, elicited.
But when in the next month, an invitation came to repair to
Philadelphia and preach on trial, the proposal was repudi-
ated on the spot. Our minister professed himself at all times
open to a direct call, but his self-respect recoiled at the idea
of an exhibition of his capabilities. " Other calls were not
likely to be wanting," and he thought it well, even in a
worldly point of view, to stand upon his dignity. Accord-
ingl}^ in the latter part of May, he received a formal call
from the First Reformed Dutch Church of Philadelphia, Crown
street, and the sum of two thousand dollars a year was to
free him from worldly cares and avocations, while engaged
in the spiritual duties of that post. Great was the sorrow
INSTALLATION AT PHILADELPHIA. 123
of the Utica flock, when, on the 29th June, their good pastor
preached his farewell sermon. It was heard by a large con-
gregation. " Shall I tell you how many tears have been
shed, how many sighs heaved, and how many prayers offer-
ed for you ? But no, I would rather say that the blessing of
the poor and needy will follow you whithersoever you go,"
wrote a humble Christian.
The installation took place in September, and the sermon
was preached by Rev. Dr. Mathews. The two inaugural dis-
courses were heard by very crowded houses, and afterwards
published, and it is related that at Mr. Bethune's first ap-
pearance in the pulpit, a most thrilling effect was produced
by the simple recital of the Apostles' Creed. After standing
some moments with his right hand raised, he began in the
most solemn manner to repeat the words, his loud, clear voice
ringing through the great building ; the vast audience were
spell-bound, and a most impressive silence ensued until broken
by the sound of the organ. The new, popular and well-known
minister found himself immersed in work, within reach of
every necessary of literary life, and spurred to vigorous ex-
ertion by the rivalry of his peers. He writes, '' There is a
strange contrast between this dull population and lively New
York. Indeed I have some fears whether I can ever make
that impression upon the city I could wish. My tempera-
ment and mode of doing tilings is so different. However,
thei'e is nothing so good as effort, except reliance upon God.
The more I see of my new people, the more I feel that I will
be useful among them. Much labor and pains and patience
will be required."
He writes to Mrs. Joanna Bethune, Nov. 19th :
*' Every day for a week past I have determined to write, but have been
interrupted until too late for the mail. I have been paying the penalty
124 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
of a new-comer; I have spoken at some public meeting every week since
I have been here, besides a thousand applications, &c., which I know
not how to dispose of. I spoke last evening for the Methodist Ladies'
Missionary Society, so that I am quite * promiskus,' as the folks say.
My own congregation is doing very well. In a few days there will not
be a vacant seat below stairs. The value of the pews on sale has risen
at least fifty per cent. My Bible class, also, has crossed the Rubicon,
and is successful, at least in appearance.
I have now my excellent friend Dr. Ludlow * with us in town, whose
sound sense will be a great personal aid to me, and whose official station
will give influence to our congregation. He is to be my hearer. I think
even that (if I do not carry the fear of man too far) will be of service
to me ; I will not dare to talk carelessly or crudely before him. I
thought I would enjoy clerical society when I came here, but I find very
little cordiality on the part of the clergy generally, and I have very little
time to enjoy the intercourse of the few I know. Drs. Cnyler and Lud-
low are my especial friends. I have been and am still labouring in-
tensely hard; I never strained mind and body so much before."
When we learn now from a letter of 23d Dec., that, having
formed the determination never to preach an old sermon if
he could possibly get time to write a new one, he had just
placed the No. 23 upon the last written since he came to
Philadelphia, we gain a sufficient idea both of the fluency
of his pen, and of his power to construe hoc age.
He was equally diligent in pastoral works, and, by the
month of October, had visited half the congregation, hav-
ing made 160 calls. His career of platform speaking was
now fairly begun. He addresses the City Tract Society,
promises a Charity Sermon, engages for a Colonization meet-
ing. His opinions in politics, as on most subjects, were
positive and well considered.
* Dr. Ludlow was Provost of the University of Pennsylvania.
roLiTiCAL yiEv»'s. 125
H. I. Kip to G. W. B. " rviiiNEDECK, Jan. H, 1835.
I have been told that you too have veered round from your old po-
sition ; but I did not design to enter into a political discussion, so I will
merely say that if, upon mature deliberation, you have become convinced
that the present administration is a dangerous one, you are justifiable in
the course you have taken ; else we might as well live under a king, if
we are not permitted to change, right or wrong ; but, as for myself, I
tliink we are as safe and as prosperous as we should be by a change, for,
to tell the truth, there is too little honesty in politics at the present day."
G. W. B. TO IMrs. J. B. *' March 19.
Yes, my dear mother, I am now thirty years of age. In all proba-
bility the larger half of my life is past ; and while I feel grateful that so
many opportunities of usefulness have been granted to such a young
man, I have much cause for sorrow tliat I have improved them no better,
and deserve so little the success with which God has sometimes been
pleased to honor his own word by my lips. May the time past suffice
me to have wrought so much for myself and the world, and the future
find me more fervent in spirit, diligent in business, ' serving the Lord.'
I think I was never more tried in my ministerial life than now, by the
little apparent success attending my labours. There are, however, many
moral causes in the past aflfecting the present and beyond my power to
control. The people must be weaned from a dependence upon measures
of their own contriving, ere we can expect God to remember them in
mercy."
In May, 1835 he appeared at the Anniversary of the New
York Colonization Society, and is thus noticed by the N. Y.
Commercial Advertiser.
" Rev. Mr. Bethune addressed the meeting in his peculiarly happy
vein, and delighted tlie audience for three-quarters of an hour with great
efiect. We have listened to few specimens of racy humor and sarcasm
more felicitous than portions of this speech ; particularly the form of the
report which it will become Mr. Geo. Thompson to present to the vener-
able single ladies of Glasgow, who have sent hira over to emancipate the
slaves of the South, by abusing their owners at the North.
126 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
** He spoke as follows: The question then returned — how shall
we do good to these people? Admitting that the power to liberate
or not to liberate them, was de facto in the hands of the white masters
at the South, two things were needful : first, to obtain the consent of
their masters ; and secondly, to show how the benefit may be conferred
with safety to those who receive it, the poor slaves themselves. One
thing was certain ; you could never convince any such man unless you
approached him in a spirit of kindness and moderation, a spirit which
admitted and sympathized with the difliculties of the slave-holder. The
gospel, while it testified of sin, came with the offer of grace in its hand,
with sympathy and compassion in every look and every tone. So wliile
it was a Christian duty to rebuke the sin of slave-holding, and to search
it out, yet this was to be done only in a spirit of love and pity, and not
in a spirit of denunciation, and rash and merciless judgment. What
right had we to denounce ? Were we ourselves so clear of guilt in this
matter? And if we were, did not the Son of God, himself without
spot, come down with Heaven's mercy, not to condemn the world, but
that the world through him might be saved ? Let us imitate his exam-
ple : let us act in his spirit. . . . As to the second point, viz., the
safety of the slave, the mode of relief must be distinctly shown. Every
great object of a national kind must be accomplished gradually. His-
tory did not show a single instance where it had been effected of" a
sudden. The Southern people, in this matter of emancipation, held the
power in their own hands ; and it was nonsense for us on this side of the
Potomac to talk authoritatively in the case. We could not emancipate
the slaves of Southern planters, if we would : the duty was not ours,
but theirs. Now it was obvious that when an address was directed to
conscience, it was, and must always be, virtually an address to individ-
uals. It must be so in the nature of things ; and the appeal in behalf
of liberating the slave must be an individual appeal. The Northern
people came to a Southern slave-holder, and said to him : ' It is a duty
binding on you to abolish slavery as soon as you can. If you will
emancipate your slave we will provide him a home upon the soil of
Africa. We are aware that the laws of your State forbid you to set him
free where he is ; but if you confide him to our care, we will place liim
where these laws cannot reach him, and where he may walk abroad in
the erect majesty of a freeman.' To such a proposition there were
many slave-holders ready to listen ; many had acted upon it ; and could
SPEECH OX COLOXIZATIOX. 127
any man doubt that one such example would have more influence
toward the abolition of slavery than all the invectives and vituperations
that could be poured out upon slave-holding ? Beyond all question it
would. It was upon the eflfect of such appeals that Mr. B. founded his
hopes of ultimate success ; and he believed that the great object might
thus be obtained without sending out all the colored population from the
country.
But it was said that to send them to Africa was impossible ; it could
not be done. Yet was it not a fact that millions upon millions of slaves
had been brought from Africa, by the mere cupidity of bad men ? Were
there not in a single year forty thousand carried into the Brazils alone ?
And should it be said that the Christian philanthropy of America, backed
by all our abundant and increasing national wealth, could not effect what
the bare avarice of the slave-trader had done and was every day doing?
Surely, if the Society had the pecuniary means this might be effected,
and they should have had more of those means but for the interference
of those who insisted upon the visionary scheme of immediate and uni-
versal emancipation. Yet no ; he was wrong. The Society had not re-
ceived less, but more, in consequence of the abuse of its opponents ; a
fact in which he recognized with joy, the fulfilment of God's ancient
promise, that the wrath of man should praise him.
He was sorry not to see some more of our English friends present,
and while speaking of them he could not help thinking what sort of a
reception the agent of the Edinburg ladies (Mr. Thompson) would meet
on his return to his constituents, and what sort of a report he would
probably make on the subject of his mission. He could not but picture
to himself the fair lady President enquiring,
' And pray, Mr. Thompson, what did you do in America? '
To this he thought he heard the agent responding,
♦ Why, ladies, I made speeches there ; for which one part of my audi-
ence loudly applauded me, and another part as loudly hissed me.'
' And pray where did you make your speeches, Mr. Thompson ? Did
you go to that part of the country where slavery prevailed, and tell tliera
how wrong it was ? '
' Oh no ! if I had they would have hanged me ! But I went to the
Norihcm States, ladies, and I told them what wicked people they were
at the South.'
* But, Mr. Thompson, had the people of the North any power to
emancipate the slaves of tlie Southern holders?'
128 ME3IOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUXE, D. D.
' Oh no, no more, ladies, than you have yourselves.'
* Indeed ! and then, Mr. Thompson, why did you not stay at home,
and make your speeches to us ? '
' But pray, Mr. Thompson, -while you were in the United States were
there no slaves actually liberated and placed in circumstances of comfort
and happiness ? '
' Oh, yes, ladies, there were one hundred and twenty emancipated and
sent to Liberia soon after my arrival ; and preparations were making to
send one hundred more from Savannah, so that, in a few months, there
were two hundred and twenty delivered entirely and forever from
slavery.'
* And by whose agency was the emancipation of these slaves effected,
Mr. Thompson ? '
' Why, ladies, hy the very people against whom I was all the while
directing my vituperative speeches.'"
Thi& speech was delivered at a time when feelings ran
very high, and the excitement was much increased by the
foreign agents.
" By the way," he writes, June loth, " Mr. Garrison, the Abolitionist,
after two or three columns of the foulest abuse, says my zeal for coloni-
zation may arise from the fact, that I am a large slave-holder in right of
my wife. They are a beautiful set when they are all at home. The Pa-
troon (bless his honest Dutch heart!) has given a thousand dollars to my
new church, which goes on very well."
The Synod of his church met this year in Albany, where
he assumed a commanding position, being elected Vice
President of the body, and made Chairman of the Com-
mittee on Education. He was hospitably entertained
by General Van Rensselaer (the old Patroon), and ''had
never seen a family so lovely as theirs. There is an
unaffected piety and gentle quiet spread among them, truly
remarkable, considering their circumstances."
THE NEW CHURCH. 129
Aug. 5 he writes to Mrs. J. B.
'^ You will be pleased to hear that I am to have my friend Gosman
with me in Philadelphia. lie has just given encouragement to the Spring
Garden jjeople that l;e will accept."
It was at the installation of Rev. Dr. Gosman that Mr.
Bethiine preached his sermon already alluded to, "Reasons
for preferring' a Union with the Reformed Dutch Church of
North America ^' ; an eifort in which a structure of graceful
eloquence is raised upon a base of accurate historj^
Now came a new excitement to awaken the interest of our
minister. The old church in Crown street was very crowd-
ed, the congregation too large and unwieldy for the care of a
single minister ; and as early as February 1835, the suggestion
was made by Rev. Peter Labagh, " whether it is not almost
time for your church to swarm that a new hive may be col-
lected." This idea must have been greatly encouraged by
the promise from Gen. Van Rensselaer of $1000 towards the
enterprise. This promise was given in June, and directly
a meeting was called, and subscriptions opened for the ob-
ject ; but no active steps were taken until Dec. 17, 1835,
when, at a meeting held at the house of Mr. Bethune, it
was solemnly and with prayer for God's help, resolved to
commence building a house of God, on the lot at the
corner of Tenth and Filbert streets. The corner-stone was
laid by Gen. Yan Rensselaer, May 3, 1836 ; Rev. Dr. Ludlow
made an address, while Mr. Bethune stated -the reasons
which moved their action. It was in ''no spirit of rivalry,
they came away in peace, and left their friends and co-wor-
shippers in the communion of the kindest feeling. But we
return to the personal.
After some account of domestic trials, and personal
9
130 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
afflictions, he goes on : —
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " Jan. 7, 1836.
I am, at the same time, in the midst of a very difficult set of sermons,
the doctrines of the person and life of Christ.
I used to think I could feel the truth of Addison's lines, —
' Not the least gift a cheerful heart,
To taste thy gifts with joy.'
I can hardly get up to the cheerfulness now, but I can thank God for
patience. I am the more submissive to his hand, because I think I have
seen that I deserve much more than I have received of chastening. I
am a very proud man, and need humbling ; a reckless man, and need
sobriety. I am learning, I trust.
But I am wrong in distressing you, who have so much trouble of your
own. I ought to be comforting you ; but I believe I shall be always a
child, in running to my mother when I feel distressed. I have the sick
with me, but you are alone ; yet * not alone,' I trust, for God is with
you.
I have no other news, except that my friends have bought the lot for
the new church at $18,500, and are about contracting for the building
(Gothic), at ^25,000. Total expense, $50,000. Their subscription is
already above $21,000.
I have heard nothing more from Market street. It would not have
done for me ; I need a different sort of people to get along with than the
mass of them. Besides, I would be almost as far from you as I am
now."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. '' February 15.
You seem anxious, from some observation of M.'s, lest D. and I
should quarrel about doctrine : give yourself no uneasiness on that score,
I am determined we shall not. He is not, however, so scrupulous with
me as with you ; and I have not the slightest doubt meant to try and
convert me when he came here. Only upon one occasion had we any
warmth. He had denied that the expression, * Ye are the temples of the
Holy Ghost,' taught the doctrine of the Spirit's dwelling in Christ's peo-
ple. He said it meant nothing more than that they had faith, etc., which
are the influences of the Spirit. I told him I believed that the Spirit of
WASHINGTON. 131
God did d\rell in God's children. He laughed long and loud, and said it
was nonsense. I then told him that he would oblige me either by speak-
ing reverently of what he knew I held God's truth, or not at all, — that I
could not bear to hear my own f.iith and the faith of my fathers ridiculed
as nonsense. Since then we have got along very well together, as he finds
me firm, and has given over the idea of converting me to his side."
A trip to Washington in behalf of his favorite Coloniza-
tion Society brought him in contact with some of our great
men, and his impressions are interesting.
*' I spent yesterday in the Senate Chamber. I heard Mr. Poindexter,
Mr. Benton, and Mr. Calhoun speak with great power in thought, but I
was surprised not to hear better English. Mr. Clay made short but en-
ergetic speeches, and I admired him very much. I went to the Presi-
dent's levee. Last evening I spent at Mr. Forsyth's, among a brilliant
crowd. Poor Mrs. Forsyth seemed sick of the whole parade, and asked
rae if I did not think it possible to keep religion alive, and yet be found
where seeming propriety required her station to be. I met Col. Inly
and some very distinguished foreigners. Mr. Webster talked delight-
fully with me; so did Mr. Calhoun. I addressed a little compliment,
wliich he swallowed like any mortal."
Now the state of his affairs opened a brilliant prospect.
Eeleased from the care of Grown street church, and the fact
that his new church was still in embryo, without a place of
worship, afforded him a season of relief, and an opportunity
to realize a golden dream of youth in a visit to the old world.
Imagination may conceive the pleasure with which a mind,
stored with classic memories, and rich with poetic beauties
as was his, would revel in such an anticipation. Let us hear
his own account.
After devoting a page to the account of a great missionary
meeting, of which the whole burden and anxiety devolved
upon hira, he writes ;
132 MEMOIR OF GEO. AV. BETIIUXE, D. D.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. ''April 2d.
We are getting on in our liousehold the old way. Frances is, gen-
erally, better than she was, but Mary improves very slowly, and is
frequently very ill. Dr. Hodge is very anxious that she should take a
voyage ; and, by the way, there seems a prospect of my having a better
opportunity of going to Europe than would be likely to occur again
if I could avail myself of it.
My new church, the corner-stone of which will be laid on or about
the first of May, we had hoped would have been finished in November.
This is now, to say the least, doubtful; and twelve months may elapse
before its completion. If, therefore, I could employ the interval in a
voyage and tour abroad, it might be serviceable. A fond day-dream I
have had for some time has been, going to the MediteiTanean in the sum-
mer and establishing Mary, with some attendant friend, in some place
in Italy (Pisa, for instance, where living is cheap and the climate good,
and consequently many English residents), and myself looking through
Italy and Greece, and especially Egypt and the Holy Land. All this
could be done before spring, when we could go to England in time for
the May meetings, and have some months of the twelve there and in my
fatherland. Such a tour I would much rather make than to spend a
longer time in Great Britain, which is pretty much like our own coun-
try ; and as a preacher, a visit to Palestine would be of great service to
me. A very pretty dream, you say, — but when we cannot have the re-
ality dreams are pleasant sometimes. Yet so many cross the water who
have not the inducements to go I have, that I sometimes feel a little im-
patient. My new church once built, fetters will be around me, and
the thing must be given up for life."
His address on ChristiaD mission^ was printed in the Evan-
gelical Magazine, July, 1836. Excepting this, no event of
special interest for our memoir occurs, until in the same
month we find the good Domiuie and Yeffrow on ship board,
setting sail from the land, and breasting the waves of the
Atlantic. The sea afforded that repose which his over-
tasked faculties so much needed (there had been a fear of
blindness), and we can imagine for ourselves the charm with
SCOTLAND. 133
which his genial converse and merry humor would enliven
the tedium of the voyage ; quite a successful one for those
days, but tedious enough according to our notions. It was
thirty days before they saw land, reaching Liverpool August
20, and Mr. Bethune was but little benefitted. Directly he
hies to Scotland, and finds it " all that he had expected. '^
•' When we came to 'merry CarHsle/ new associations were present-
ed constantly to my mind. You know hew fond I have been of bal-
lads, particularly Scotch, and of Scott's novels, and everything relative
to the border wars. Here every name was famihar; there was the
castle of Carlisle, where Fergus Maclvor in ' Waverley' was confined,
and from which he was carried to the scaffold ; here, also, the three out-
laws were brought to be hanged, as an old ballad tells us, which, per-
haps, you do not remember. There we crossed the very river on the
bridge of which Maclvor saw the ghost which foretold his death. Then
on the right we passed Wetherby Hall, from which Lochinvar stole his
bride ; and then • Cannabie Sea,' over which they chased ; and the Esk,
which he * swam when ford there was none ' ; after that we passed the
Teviot, the Clyde, the Yarrow, ' braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,'
the Ettrick, the Galla Water, leaving Melrose and Dryburgh on the
right hand, passing in full view of Abbotsford, Walter Scott's place.
Edinburgh is most beautifully situated, and excelhng in beauty any
idea I had ever formed of it."
At Edinburgh " on Sunday morning, I went to hear my cousin Mr.
Marshall, in what is termed the Tolbooth, or Jail Church; it is the
same building in which the famous escape of Robertson, the prisoner,
occurred, as it is described in the ' Heart of Mid Lothian,' but the wood-
work is very much modernised ; under the same roof there are three
churches, for it was originally an immense Gothic Cathredral. On
Monday I went exploring universities in what is termed the old town,
a great portion of which is built in ravines, over which are bridges
also covered with houses, so that there is a city as it were over a city.
First I sought out the house in which my grandmother used to live,
which I found very readily ; then I went through the libraries which
134 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE. D. D.
are very large, in -wliicli I saw some fine old volumes and a few manu-
scripts ; among the rest a collection of the genuine letters of my fa-
vorite Mary Queen of Scots in her own hand-writing, they were prin-
cipally to her mother, and breathed much of the affection of a kind
heart. I then went to the towers, saw the Highland regiment there
stationed, and the ancient regalia of Scotland. I saw Allen Ram-
say's house and his grave ; and then the Grass Market where the mar-
tyrs suffered, passed a window from which John Knox used to preach
to the people, and then to Holy rood Palace where I saw the State
rooms of poor Mary, and the place of her many sorrows. Every
spot has an historical association."
He visited the birth-place of his father, and had a warm
reception from his Scottish cousins. He preached a Charity
Sermon with good results.
** The beauty of Stirling exceeds almost any scenery of the quiet
kind that I have yet viewed ; the castle is a fine old pile, and of
course the more attractive to me from its having been the residence of
ray uncle for so long a time. The river Forth winds in a most extraor-
dinary manner near it, so that it makes twenty miles of circuit in
going seven. Its banks are full of interest from the number of gen-
tlemen's seats and ruined buildings. I entered Edinburgh to-day
from a new quarter, and was again struck with its superiority to any
place I have ever seen. I was, however, much amused this afternoon
in visiting a panorama which is exhibiting here of New York — no
one I am sure would have known the poor city, so metamorphosed is
it from the reality. The people, however, that were visiting it,
seemed highly delighted and pronounced it a most splendid city.
The view Is supposed to be taken from the house immediately oppo-
site St. Paul's Church. Broadway seemed nearly three hundred feet
wide, and Columbia College close to the river. I am perfectly de-
lighted with my trip to the Highlands. The variety of scenery is
beyond description, and entirely different from anything I have ever
seen at home. I found Dalrymple House in fine preservation, only
it is, I suppose, the residence of a dozen families; and there is a grog
CliOLY AND MELVILLE. 135
shop in the basement kept by a man of the name of Graham, who
never heard of Dahymple House m his life.
Keturning to England, " I stopped at Glastonbury, where I saw
the oldest Ecclesiastical buildings, or rather ruins (though one church
is yet standing entire j in England; here tradition asserts that Joseph
of Arimathea landed with eleven companions some forty years after
Christ, and preached the gospel. Here, too, King Arthur was buried
with his queen. I slept in the very place which was formerly the
Pilgrim's House."
At Bristol a series of Missionary meetings demanded his attention
and efforts.
"London turns one's head upside down more than any place I
have ever been in ; and not only one's head, but one's time, night is
day and day is night ; if you chance to be downstairs before ten, it
excites quite serious astonishment ; the morning closes not until six
in the evening, and then dinner occupies you until ten, so that, with
the best intentions in the world, I have been cheated out of my design
of writing to you.
I had the pleasure of hearing Dr. Croly (the author of Salathiel)
in the morning, and Mr. Melville in the evening. Croly was not
at all profound, and of course shew^ed no great things, though I was
gratified in seeing him and speaking to him afterwards. He is a very
different man from what I expected — being tall, stout, and ungainly,
with a strong Jewish accent. Melville, I feel inclined to pronounce
the best preacher I have heard in England. His sermon was fervid
though cautious and earnest without cant. The text he chose was
from 2nd Thessalonians iii., IG : " The Lord of peace grant you peace
always by all means." The tenor of the discourse was to show that
from the name of God in Christ, the God of peace, we might, and
ought, at all times and in every variety of circumstances to enjoy
serenity and quiet of soul. It was sweet as well as strong.
I preached last night at Craven Chapel, to an enormous audience,
and I believe with acceptance to the people ; Oh ! that it may be with
God's blessing.
There is quite a revival in ]\Ir. Leifchilds's church ; and you will
136 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
rejoice with me when I tell you that my sermon on Sunday evening
has been, with the blessing of Divine grace, the means of leading three
or four that we know of to decide for the Lord. I spoke this even-
ing for him also, and to do away some of the bitter prejudice which
exists, I told them, some of my Oatland stories, which aifected many to
tears. I have been requested to give a sermon for publication
in the same series, if not in the same volume, with one of John
Foster, and one of Mr. McCall of Manchester, and I have promised
to write."
Oatlands mentioned above was the plantation in Georgia,
where he labored amongst the slaves. In the course of
this tour, the righteous soul of our minister was much
vexed with the injustice done to his countrj^ ; and he
concluded " that they (English people) were too much
beside themselves and too ignorant on that subject to be
talked with.'^
AYhile he was thus enjojang and wandering, disputing
and preaching, perhaps he was not ill pleased to learn that
the work upon his new church was progressing slowly, and
that he would be at liberty to spend the winter in Europe,
if so disposed. We soon find him at Dover on his way to
France and Italy ; he writes from Paris :
" Brighton is the place where, as I suppose you know, the king has a
palace or, as it is called, a Pavilion. Here, in what seems to me a very
odd taste, the English come as to a watering-place at this time of year
(Dec. 4). You may imagine how great the resort is, when I say that
the place contains some forty thousand inhabitants, which was only a
fishing village before. The palace is a very singular building in the
Eastern style, with singular bell-shaped turrets. There had been a
violent storm a few days before we reached it, and the place, being
entirely exposed to the sea, bore numerous traces of its devastating
influence ; yet in spite of the gale, the people, ladies and all, were
walking upon the pier, with their garments blowing about in very odd
A FRENCH DILIGENCE. lo?
style, yet as it is the fsisliion they bore it with no small philosophy.
Hastings too, is quite a striking place, the buildings are really beautiful.
That is the place where William the Conqueror fought his famous battle
on invading England. Dover is the place where the white cliflfs of
chalk are, which have given to England the name of white-cliffed
England. You remember Shakespeare's description of Dover in Lear;
but certainly Shakespeare had never seen an American cliff, or he
would never have made such a fuss about these.
I have seen nothing very remarkable in France, until we reached this
city except the great number of wind-mills, which are so frequent that
they are enough to turn one's head. A French diligence is, however,
a most extraordinary affair. It is, properly speaking, composed of
three parts; the coupe which is exactly like an English chariot; the
rotonde which is like a post-coach, and the interieur which is the same
only opening behind ; besides these there is a place upon tlie top where
all the baggage is stowed, the name of which I forget but which is
capable of holding a number of persons, so that altogether there may
be some twenty passengers with the driver and conducteur. This huge
machine is upon four wheels, and drawn sometimes by four, sometimes
by five and even six horses. If there are five, the three horses are put
on the lead. The harness is made up of ropes and chains and wood
and leather, in the most grotesque manner, and thus you are dragged
over the paved roads at about four or five miles an hour. It is really
quite astonishing that they do not upset the concern a dozen times a
day, for the French drivers manage their horses apparently with the
worst possible skill, yet they get along with very few accidents."
The following letter to an old friend gives a valuable
resume of our traveller's impressions up to this period.
G. W. B. TO Miss Euphesiia Van Rensselaer.
" Paeis, Decemher 26, 1836.
I am sure your goodness will pardon my finding a solace for my
feelings in expressing them to you, however unmindful I may seem to
have been of the privilege you gave me of sending you an account of
my wanderings. My excuses on that score have been already made.
138 MEMOIR OF GEO. \V. BETHUNE, D. D.
It is too late now to begin a detailed description of the many places
of interest I have visited. My extreme hurry prevents it at the proper
time, and I must wait for that pleasure until I return; but you will
not consider me too bold in saying that in every scene of natural
beauty, or historical association, I found additional delight from the
hope of being permitted to describe it to you at some future day. To
say I have been gratified by my visit to the Old World, would not be
half the truth. I have been instructed and rebuked ; instructed by the
perception of new claims upon my charity, and rebuked for a thousand
prejudices I had insensibly allowed to grow up in my mind. Everywhere
I have been met with kindness, unexpected as it was unmerited; and I
hope never again to confine my idea of neighborhood to narrower
limits than the family of man. O for a heart like His, who so loved the
world as to give himself for it. How ungrateful I have been to waste
so many thoughts and hours upon myself, when there are so many
immortal beings whom he has commanded me to serve. I was much
pleased with England. The English are truly a wonderful people. It
is impossible to travel however rapidly through their country without
being impressed by the mightiness of their strength. The majestic
dignity of age is combined with the vigor of youth. Time, which
wears away all else, has delighted to confirm and extend the founda-
tions of their prosperity. It is little less than sublime to see their
aristocratic families flourishing and happy, beneath the same gray roofs
which have sheltered their fathers for a thousand years ; or to join the
rustic worshippers in the ivy-covered church, whose aisles are worn by
the footsteps of many generations who have there breathed the same
prayers and sung the same hymns of holy praise. There is poverty,
bitter, hopeless poverty in England, poverty such as is unknown in
our happier land, and it is painful to compare the price of humble labor
with the price of food; but excepting in the larger towns poverty is
rarely seen. The same taste which leads the rich man to study the
effect of every tree in his wide domain, teaches him to hide from the
eye the displeasing contrast of squalid want. The cottage of the
village pauper is covered with the woodbine and creeping multiflora ;
while the starving wretch is forbidden to beg with the same sternness
that he is forbidden to steal. I do not mean to say that there is no
pity for the poor in England, on the contrary, their charity is un-
ENGLISH INSTITUTIONS. 139
equalled, but from the density of the population it is impossible to
relieve all the distressed, and many an outcast perishes from want
before the parish almoners can determine who are tlie proper guardians
of his welfare. There is, however, not a little ostentation in the
manner of their charity. It is not an unusual thing for the visitor to
be shown the almshouses of an estate as part of its architectural
adornments. I could not help smiling at a pompous inscription over
a row of three or four which declares them to have been 'founded and
endowed by the bounty ' of that Duchess of Marlborough, who, you
remember, was notorious for her avarice. They shelter some half-a-
dozen poor widows, and stand close to the princely portal through
which you pass to find Blenheim House. It is very difficult to say how
the many evils which undoubtedly exist in England may be remedied.
After as careful a study as my opportunities allowed me to give the
subject, I am rather inclined to be a tory in English politics. At least
I would hold hard upon the wheels of reform to check if possible its too
rapid descent. Even the abuses of their institutions like the excrescent
humors that sometimes appear in the human frame, have been suffered
to remain so long and to become so deeply imbedded that to sever them
too rudely at once would be fatal to the life of the body politic. There
are many arteries first to be bound up, and even then the knife should
be in a skilful hand. The population in their little island is too numer-
ous for such institutions as ours. There must be a strong hand some-
where to keep down such immense brute force, at least in the present
state of public morals. It is true, that much provision is made for the
education of the people, and the national schools which one sees in
every few miles of travel, are among England's proudest glories. But
I am not one of those who believe in the omnipotence of education,
unless it be accompanied by the influences of the Spirit of God. IMan
can never know his true interest unless he sees it in the light of another
world. When the people of England become generally and heartily
religious, then, and not till then, will they be prepared for a popular
government; and nothing but the same blessed leaven can keep our
beloved country from the loss of her liberties, when our wide terri-
tories shall become crowded like theirs. There is indeed, much
religion now in England. I very much question whether pure and
undefiled religion does not flourish much more there than in the United
140 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
States. Certainly our worshipping assemblies might take many a lesson
in decorum and solemnity from those which assemble in the churches
of the establishment and the chapels of the dissenter. More holy,
zealous and self-denied men I have never seen than many in both bodies
of Christians, and, although too many of the clergy (which name is
there confined to the ministry of the church of England) may have no
true sense of the gospel they profess to teach, yet, the frequent reading
of their admirable and instructive liturgy, with the many scriptural
lessons appointed in the service, cannot fail to have a very salutary
influence upon the popular mind. Certainly the evangelical clergy and
the dissenting ministry are far more sound in the faith, and preach the
gospel with greater simplicity, than the large majority of preachers
with us. In only one or two instances have I heard doctrinal views
given which would have been considered unsound in our own upright
church. My -sympathies were of course more naturally with the
dissenters in most respects, but I cannot avoid trembling at the dangers
which menace the establishment. An established religion with us,
would indeed be a great evil, but the refusal to establish a church by
the state is very diiferent from putting one down. If the reform of
the church, as it is called, could be placed in the hands of good men,
the case would be different, but the party opposed to the establishment
is composed of atheistical Jacobins, led on by such spirits as Hunt and
Eoebuck, the vulgar Catholics headed by the strong-minded but in-
famous O'Connell, many who care for none of these things, and a few
candid, conscientious men. Must we not dread the result, when such
unhallowed hands are put forth to touch the ark of the living God ?
It is sad, however, to see the effect which the intermingling of religious
with political questions has had upon many good men on both sides.
Once the pious dissenter considered his political inferiority as a cross
which it became him meekly to bear, and he worked the better for his
poverty of spirit ; while the truly good churchman forgot his refusal to
conform in admiration of his Catholic spirit; but now the dissenter
buckles on his armor and contends with carnal weapons for his
right, and the churchman like a strong man bars and bolts his house to
keep it safe.
The Episcopalian, heaven knows, has temptations to bigotry enough
at all times, but in England just now, he is fusing, and the dissenter
PUBLIC OPINION IN ENGLAND. 141
not much better. Alas ! that brother should thus contend \7ith brother.
If I were a dissenting minister in England, I would simply preach the
gospel, and pray over it, leaving all the rest in the hands of God; but
perhaps I would do just as they do, for we never know how we will act
until we are tried. A good illustration of my last remark, by the way,
is found in the present state of public opinion in England with refer-
ence to the United States. The religious people especially are actually
mad upon the subject of American slavery, so much so that an Ameri-
can Christian can scarcely appear in a public meeting without being
insulted. They will listen to no explanations, allow no diflSculties,
and, almost universally ignorant of the nature of our government,
compound in one common condemnation, the North and the South, the
slave-holder, and the non slave-holder. It was rather hard for me to
keep my temper at times, though I carefully avoided placing myself in
positions which exposed me to attacks. The testimony of Thompson
is taken for truth against all that the well-informed and the candid
among themselves can say, much more against our asseverations. On
one occasion I did so far forget myself as to give one gentleman a
rather sharp retort. I had been baited by a number of them at a dinner-
table one day, when this person, more rude than the rest, bade me ' mark
what England had done, how she had freed all her slaves ; and let Am-
erica go and do likewise, or be content to bear the scorn of the world. '
I replied, * Sir, when I read the news of the bill for the Emancipation
of the AVest Indies, being passed, I said to myself, England is a gloii-
ous nation, she well deserves her rank among the nations of the earth.
She has done one of the most glorious acts the world has ever witnessed ;
but sir,' I added, ' if the same spirit existed then which seems to excite
you, I should doubt the genuineness of the charity after all.' 'How so
sir?' rejoined my hero. 'Because sir, St. Pciul tells us Charity
vaunteth not herself, is not puffed up, and, you must allow me to add,
doth not behave herself unseemly. ' I was then let alone. I must how-
ever do justice in saying that the church people are far more considerate
and less prejudiced in this respect than the ministry, and that there are
not a few among the latter class who are willing to allow the difficulties
of our situation. Indeed, the liberal party in England is sadly raisnom-
ered. Its chief strength is derived from the wealtliy manufacturers who
are jealous of the landed aristocracy, and a few of the very high and
142 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
wealthy nobility, who are jealous of the crown, and willing to provide
habitations for themselves in the event of an overthrow. The truly
liberal men are very, very rare. Do not think I have been biased by
my associations in England. I have been far more among the Whigs than
Tories. The morals of England generally, will not bear comparison
with those of our own country. The multitude of drunkards is far great-
er, and the unblushing audacity -with which the innumerable tippling
shops, or rather palaces, invite their customers, has no parallel with us.
I have had the curiosity to count the murders which are described in
their papers, and am persuaded that they exceed in frequency those of
the whole United States together. I was sorry also to learn that profli-
gacy prevailed, not only in the manufacturing towns, and larger cities,
but also among the agricultural classes, who are generally so pure.
This is to be attributed to the extreme closeness of the population, which
induces poverty, and consequent recklessness of character.
But this is an unpleasant topic to dwell on, let me turn to one of a
more gratifying character. We are told that John Bull is a rough,
repulsive nature, cold and distant to strangers. I saw nothing of this.
On the contrary, I mingled with all classes from the peer to the peasant,
and everywhere met with the utmost politeness, and no rudeness or
even carelessness of civility. There is, indeed, a certain reserve
maintained in public places which I wish were oftener found at home,
but it soon wears off when there is no necessity for it. The ready and
willing attention of the servants is most agreeable to one accustomed
to the republican indifference, which sits upon the brow of those we
pay to do our bidding; while an English gentleman and lady are, just
what gentlemen and ladies are all over the world. Everywhere you
meet with intelligent people, who seem to think their kindness a matter
of course without making such a fuss about it as we often see at home.
The scenery in England is very sweet and quiet, but not various.
With the exception of some fine mountain views in Wales, and among
the lakes in Cumberland, I was rather tired of the monotony until I
reached wild, rugged, yet ever fascinating, Scotland. The parks of
many gentlemen are exceedingly fine. The oaks and cedars, centuries
old, lift their arching branches or cast their profound shade over a turf
shorn and levelled to a velvet softness, while the dappled deer are seen
in the intervals gazing upon their beautiful shadows in the placid waters.
ENGLISH AND SCOTCH SCENERY. 143
But there was too much of the hand of man visible for my taste. It
is true, nature has been imitated, but man's nature is not God's nature,
and it is not impossible to forget tliat every shadow had been calculated
and that the stream had been dammed up to form the lake, while the
melancholy eye of the fawn looked upon you with a familiar confidence
which told he was not a free denizen of the forest. Were nothing else
wanting there is no sunshine in England to reveal the full beauty of
the earth. Their clearest sky is a sort of cafe au lait color, and one
can never go in search of the picturesque without an umbrella and
over-shoes ; and as for a sunrise or a sunset they are matters of faith
not sight. I would not give one glance of our deep blue heavens when
the fleecy clouds are chasing over them, one glorious summer evening's
western gorgeousness, or the streamy radiance of our Indian summer's
morn, for the Duke of Northumberland's park, with all its ha-has and
educated groves. I say educated, for every branch has been taught like
a * young idea how to shoot.'
But Scotland,
*■ Land of the mountain and the flood,
Land of green heath and shaggy wood.'
My pen will certainly run away with me if I do not stop at once, and
this awful elongation of an epistle be like poor Paddy's rope, the other
end of which was cut off. I will not say Scotland is more beautiful
than America, but certainly we have nothing like her scenery. But
dear Scotland, thou shalt have another day to do thee honor. Au revoir.
But I must stop again to say, I wish I could send your sister and your-
self some sprigs of her heather to twine in your hair. It is worthy of
the honor. As for the beauty of England's daughters, my fair country-
Avomen have no cause for jealousy.
I saw more loveliness at Gen. Cass's soiree last night, than I have seen
since I left home, and there were none but Americans in the room.
The English women are too — too — (I want a word) too strong, too
healthy, if there be such a thing. Their cheeks are so red that they
are almost blue. And such feet, they certainly gave the name to a foot
measure. My conscience gives me, however, a twinge here, and bids
me remember some delightful friends we had the pleasure of seeing,
but there are exceptions, you know, to every general rule. I am told
that among the nobility there are ladies of that high-bred beauty, which
144 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
makes one almost hold his breath, it is so pure, so unearthly in its deli-
cacy ; and I suppose it is so, but I could match all the noble beauty I
saw, from among the cotton-spinners of Lowell, and the onion-growers
of "Weathersfield, to say nothing of the Katrinas and Ariantzes,
along our noble Hudson. I have heard, too, occasional laughter at the
extremfe delicacy (squeamishness they call it) and shrinking sensitive-
ness of observation, which characterize our American women. They
say it argues mauvaise Jionte, but God grant that they may ever keep it.
It is their liighest merit, their most attractive charm. It is more prec-
ious than the richest veil that ever Mechlin weaver wove. You remem-
ber the tempter in Milton's Comus (how exquisitely delightful that poem
is) says :
' Beauty was made for sports, as these,
For feasts and courts and high festivities.'
But when woman's feminineness is gone, she is not what God made
her, and not what God would have her to be. Her throne is in the
heart, her world her home. A proof of this is seen in the fact that, as
no where else are women so retiring as with us, so, no where else have
they so much real deference shown them.
It excited wonder in England, when I once gave up my seat in a
stage-coach to a lady, a thing an American ploughboy would have done.
Everywhere in England and in France, you see females at Avork in the
fields doing the work of men. Here they make part of the pageant of
an hour, but at home we honor them as our mothers, our wives, our
sisters and our friends. In England they hold a higher rank than
among these trifling Frenchmen ; but in America they give to life its
best and purest charms. I beg pardon for this unmerciful visitation.
Your criticism I do not fear, for harsh you cannot be, and if I need for-
giveness, I submit readily my case to so gentle a judge. You have, no
doubt, met travelled Americans who alFect a disrelish for their own
country. Never did I feel so grateful to God for casting my lot in that
dear land, as now. I must quote a verse from one of my own songs to
express my heart.
' My country, oh, my country !
My heart still sighs for thee ;
And many are the longing thoughts
I send across the sea.
My weary feet have wandered far.
And far they yet may roam ;
PARIS. 145
But oh ! whatever land I tread,
My heart is with my home.'
Please present my most respectful compliments to all your estimable
circle, and allow me to be
Very truly your friend,
Geo. W. Betiiune."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. B. " Paris, Dec. 13, 1836.
To describe Paris is impossible. It is a magnificent city, full of
beautiful buildings and scenes of gaiety ; yet there are fiir fewer exter-
nal evidences of depravity than in London, or any English city I have
seen. Luxurious and abandoned as a vast majority of the Parisians
are, they have the good sense to hide their dissipation, or, at least, to
veil it with graceful drapery. The pleasantest circle I have found was
at Mr. Baird's on Saturday evening last, when I met some thirty or
forty Americans, and a few English, in an old-fasliioned religious meeting.
It was very sweet and pleasant to sing the Lord's song in a strange land.
The gallery of the Louvre contains paintings enough to occupy me
for a year. They are, besides, altogether of a higher character than any
of those I have seen except a very few in England. I would soon
become very fond of such matters. There is much fine music to be
heard, and it is quite delightful to hear as one passes along the streets
at night, the sudden burst of harmony from a band playing some famil-
iar tune.
They tell a good story here, by the way, of Dr. He meant to ask
his landlady for a chest of drawers to j)ut in his room, and he asked for a
poitrine de calegon. It is said too, that he insisted upon maldng a
speech before the French Bible Society, in French. The Parisians
listened to him very gravely, but, &c."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " Dec. 28.
I have been endeavoring to improve my time as well as I could, and
certainly tliink that upon many subjects I have acquired much infor-
mation. My French teacher compliments me upon the readiness with
which I improve in my knowledge of the language, and I can under-
stand sufficiently well, to profit by tlie lectures in the different halls. I
certainly have learned more in Paris than in London, and the society of
well-informed persons is more easily reached. I was almost ashamed
of the manner in which my time slipt from me in London ; it seemed as if
10
146 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
I were continually employed in going from one street to another, the
people are so wide apart.
Here, one can meet all they know in a very short time. There is
mucli religious society here, at least much to what you would expect,
and I enjoy myself as well as I can away from all I love. Mary writes
me she is better, and begs me not to return to her until I have gone
further, and, but for this, I believe I would have been on my way back
to her before. I am haunted too 'with the dread lest you will blame rae
for staying in Europe, and spending so much money, though it is what I
have not known how to avoid. I shall be miserable until I hear from you.
I do hope the colonel will act a liberal part. He ought. But I must not
write on this subject. I can not bear it. Dearest mother, forgive your
son if lie has done wrong.
We have been near seeing another revolution in Paris. Day before
yesterdaj^ Louis Pliilippe was going in his carriage to open the Chamber,
when he was fired at in his carriage by an assassin. The ball passed
close to his head and between the Duke of Nemours and liis other son.
I went to see the parade, and heard the shot, though I did not see the
affair. I have been told since that it was well for us that the King was
not killed, as the National Guards would have been so exasperated as to
have charged at once upon the popukice. Poor Louis Philippe I His
crown is one of thorns. Yet God seems to watch over him in a remark-
able manner. I believe he most conscientiously intends the good of his
subjects, and certainly in private life is scrupulously moral. They say
that the attachment of the Royal family to each other, is very great,
and would be unusual any where, and in any rank in life, but especially
in France and a reigning liouse. The poor Queen looked very, very
pale and anxious, as she passed where vre stood a few moments before
the shot was fired. How near her fears were to being realized !
I can not say I like the French people. They are too flippant, too
external, if I may use the expression, while the English are too heavy
and reserved. I have found none like the warm-hearted, ready-handed
Scotch. They are more like the Americans in character, and we, I think,
contain many of the excellences of the French and English, with faults
peculiarly our own.
I had hoped for a run into Italy, but the weather is so bad, the roads
so bad, the cholera so bad, and the quarantines worse than all, that I
believe I must give it up, but it is hard to do so.
SLEIGHING IN PARIS. 147
Mr. Betbune was now made one of a deputation of Americans, who
were to congratulate King Louis Philippe on his fortunate escape from
the attempts upon his life. So he went to Court. " I had the honor,"
writes the traveller, " of a particular bow from his Majesty, which I
attempted to return in my best style." On the same occasion, the
English people had a deputation, and it was announced that while those
of our country held the paper, containing resolutions of sympathy, the
other party should express in words the sentiments of the house. Mr.
Betlmne related the marked difference in the conduct of the two dele-
gations. The English appeared abashed in the presence of royalty, and
spoke to each other in suppressed whispers, while the Americans stood
up erect and self-possessed, talking together as if quite at their ease.
" I have been to Court and exercised the cat's privilege of looking at a
king; he behaved very well, and so did we."
" Paris now looks like home, the streets are covered with snow, and
the people are enjoying themselves in the holidays. I have seen some
sleighs in the streets, but they are the oddest looking things you can
imagine. One of them is a reindeer stuffed upon runners, with a hole
through the back, near the tail, in which a lady thrusts herself, and the
gentleman, a Russian, sits behind and drives, and there is a gilded shell
with a gilt cock perched upon the front. The horses have plumes of
ostrich feathers upon their heads, and are covered with little bells.
Did I tell you I was at General Cass's soiree last Monday evening ?
It was quite an American party, and I have not seen so much beauty
since I left home."
The cholera having abated, and quarantine barriers being
removed, our minister proceeded on his southern journey.
We hear from him next at
** Genoa, Jan. 18, 1837.
What Hannibal and Buonaparte did I have done, 'crossed the
Alps.' Whatever difficulties those gentlemen found in their way, I
found none. It was, however, extremely cold. Indeed I have not been
really comfortable since I have been in Italy. The scenery of the part
of the Alps (those of Savoy) through which we came, is very wild, and
sometimes extremely beautiful, but not so very different from mountain
scenery at home, as I had imagined. Undoubtedly the season deprived
it of many of its charms, but yet it must have given others ; the fan-
148 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
tastic forms into which the droppings of the snow from the cliffs were
frozen, and the congealed waterfalls glittering like diamonds in the sun,
were exquisitely beautiful. No art could carA^e, and no fancy devise
tracery so inimitably beautiful. "Winter scenery in a rugged country
has always had great charms for me. I crossed by Mount Cenis, and it
is wonderful how art has triumphed over nature in constructing a road
over a heap (for no word seems to describe it so well) of mountains,
nearly six thousand feet high, and so good that in summer the most timid
woman might cross it without fear. I had for my companion a very
pleasant man, a descendant of the Albigenses of wliom you have read.
He was quite intelligent, speaking every language of Europe, and de-
lighted to give all the information, and shew me all the kindness in his
power. To liim I was indebted, not only for much pleasure, but instruc-
tion in the liistory of those mountains where St. Paul once preached,
and the religion of Christ was kept pure and undefiled during all the
reign of superstition in the dark ages. Descending on this side of the
mountain, we were soon aware we had entered Italy.
The chestnut and elm began to abound, the sides of the precipitous
liills were covered to the top with vineyards, and the graceful palace
took the place of the Savoyard's Cottage. Sunday morning, very early,
we reached Turin, the capital of Piedmont, the most beautiful city ex-
cepting Edinburgh, I have seen. Nothing can be finer than its two
principal squares. The streets, too, are as straight and rectangular as
those of Philadelphia, and, what is still more remarkable, as clean. I
did wish for spring, however, to set off the beauty of the scenery through
which we passed. Imagine if you can, a wide, high road, lined on each
side by fine old chestnuts, winding along the foot of hills covered to the
top Avitli palaces, in the midst of vineyards, the vines growing on elm
trees planted for the purpose, while below the road is the river Po,
wide, i)lacid, and majestic, wandering through the richest valley,
bounded in the distance by the snow-peaked Alps, and you have the
road from Turin. Oh ! it is beautiful as a poet's dream ; then the cos-
tume of the peasant women, a white veil thrown back from the head
and flowing to the feet, is so graceful ; while the very oxen, white and
dove-colored, are beautiful features in the landscape. Now I. look out
from my chamber window on the Mediterranean. Genoa is situated on
the shore of a harbor exactly like a horse-shoe, and is very rich and
beautiful, but being built on the side of a hill, the houses are very liigh?
PISA AXD FLORENCE. 149
There are only one hundred and forty steps to my room, and in the pal-
ace of the Palacini, whore I was to-day, the dining-room is up two pair
of stairs. Here the costume of the women is very fanciful ; they wear
long veils of chintz, the ground of which is white and flowered. They
look very pretty in them.
Pisa is remarkable for the beauty of some of its edifices. The prin-
cipal is the leaning tower or campanile. It is about two hundred feet
high, and circular, consisting of a number (eight) of stories with more than
two hundred columns, but the greatest curiosity about it is, that in conse-
quence, as is supposed, of an earthquake, it has been thrown from the
perpendicular, and now leans over more than thirteen feet, so that you
would suppose it would fall every moment, yet it has stood in tliis way
for centuries. Near the town is a fine Cathedral, adorned Avith magnifi-
cent brass gates, and columns, and pictures. Behind the cathedral again
is the Baptistry, which is a beautiful octagon temple, entirely of white
marble. They have there, too, what is termed the ' Campo Santo,' or
holy field, which is a burial ground, the centre of which is filled in with
earth brought from Jerusalem, and the sides enclosed by fine Gothic
ranges of windows. It contains many beautiful monuments, much an-
tique sculpture, and old inscriptions. We left Pisa, however, the next
day, and came through the beautiful vale of the Arno to Florence. We
were very much struck with the beauty of the peasantry ; the roads
were lined with villages, and crowds of the peasants in their picturesque
dresses were seen along. "We did not see a young woman with a bad
face ; all were handsome ; the ladies say the men are so, too, but I did
not remark them. Eeport says, the peasantry are as virtuous and in-
dustrious as they are beautiful. Oh ! it was a sweet ride, the vineyards
on each side, the winding Arno, rolling its deep waves, tinged by the
hues of an Italian sunset, or silvered over by a full, clear moon, which
rose upon us long before we entered Florence. Here there is much to
interest the stranger, more than any part of Italy, except Rome and
Venice. It is now the season of the Carnival, and the Florentines are
very gay. The public promenade along the bank of the beautiful Arno
is filled every afternoon with crowds in their holiday dresses, many with
the most ludicrous and grotesque masks and costumes, amusing them-
selves and the rest. The gentry go and drive on the Corso, which re-
sembles the Pasea at Havana, where they ride backwards and for-
wards, throwing sugar-plums at each other. Here is the celebrated
150 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUXE, D. D.
riorontine gallery which contains the Venus de Medici, and many
rare sculptures and paintings. I spent four liours in the gallery to-day,
and shall spend as many to-morrow."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. B. " Rome, Feb. 2, 1837.
^Modern Eome is a sad commentary on the evanescent nature of
human glory. It contains, it is true, many splendid buildings, and one
unmatched in the world, St. Peter's ; hut there is the appearance of
wretched, vicious poverty in the common people, and the streets are
narrow and filthy. This is properly the week of the Carnival, when
Eome should, according to custom, be very gay. You know that Car-
nival means, literally, * Farewell to meats ! ' and precedes Lent ; it is,
in truth, feasting as much as they can before they are obliged to fast.
But I understand the Pope is fearful of a revolt, and has forbidden
masks, which these childish Italians consider so necessary to their
amusement, that they think they can have no fun without them. They
have, however, some of their amusements, among which are ridiculous
races. The principal street in the city is termed the Corso, or Race
Course, and the middle of it is covered with tan. At the appointed time
the horses are brought out behind a rope, which is stretched across the
street, and are without riders, but with a sort of saddle with flaps, in
which are iron spikes. At the sound of a cannon the rope before them
is dropt, and away go the poor beasts, spurred on the more, the faster
they make haste, until at the other end they run against a large clotli
hung across the streets, and are stopped. Nothing can be more ridicu-
lous, yet, to see this, the Romans go in crowds ; the Corso itself is full,
and it is with the utmost difficulty the troops can preserve a lane wide
enough for the horses. The glory of modern Rome, however, is her
St. Peter's. This immense church I cannot describe to you : to say that
it is more than GOO feet long, 200 feet broad, and 150 feet high, or
rather, 450 feet to the top of the cross, would be to convey but a poor
notion of its grandeur. Every part of this immense structure is fin-
ished in the most costly manner ; mosaic pictures of enormous size,
colossal statues and graceful tombs and altars, are on every side, in the
greatest profusion. Not less than fifty millions of dollars had been
spent upon this church in a.d. 1700 ; to say nothing of what has been
added since. Yet I cannot say after all, that I admire St. Peter's ; it is
HOME. 151
impossible uct to be astonished at its vast size, but it is not to my mind
truly grand. The gilt ceiling, the tinsel, the profusion of ornament
are not to mj* taste. I had much more pleasure in Westminster Abbey,
and some other Gothic buildings in England, and the Madeleine of
Paris, which is pure Grecian, than in St. Peter's. It was, too, a strong
rebuke of tlie pride wliieh created such a temple, to see, as one continu-
ally does, a poor wretclicd man or woman huddling in the corner near
the altar, which was most attractive to them for reasons they only could
know. Surely the religion v/hich was given for the poor in spirit, and
teaches humility of heart, needs no such gorgeous temple as St. Peter's.
The rooms of the celebrated Vatican contain a profusion of fine sculp-
ture, hut a small portion of which I have yet seen. The Apollo Belvi-
dcre, next to the Venus de Medici, is probably the most beautiful statue
in the world, such dignity ! such grace ! such manly beauty ! "
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " Rome, Feb. 8, 1837.
There is a gay scene from my windows. They look out upon the
terraces and esplanade of the handsomest gardens of Rome, which are
now filled with gaily-dressed and merry people. It is the last day of the
carnival, Mardi Gras, and the Romans, expecting to be half starved for
the next forty days, are determined to feast to-day. This Italy is indeed
a beautiful land, like one vast pleasure-ground, with a continual summer.
Every one may here find his taste gratified. Here are amusements for
the butterflies, who think of notliing else ; because the Italian lives for
amusement. Here are classical associations for the scholar, every hill,
and lake, and river, speaking to him of times gone by, and here the lover
of the arts, painting, sculpture and music, finds them in a profusion not
elsewhere known. Yet it is a melancholy land. I cannot enjoy myself
over the grave of buried millions i or when I see the indolent Italians
lounging over the ground the masters of the world once trod, and yield-
ing to the rule of effeminate and slipshod priests. The superstition of the
people is awful. The other day I saw a dozen of them climbing upon their
knees the Seala Santa, or stairs, said to have been those of Pilate's
house wliich the Saviour went up; this was to gain a thousand days'
indulgence, that is, to buy off a thousand years of purgatory. At another
place crowds of vrell- dressed people and beggars of the m.ost revolting
description were kissing, one after another, a cross wliich gained them a
hundred days. The Pope is continually issuing orders about ceremonies
152 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
and processions, and the whole aim seems to be, to make a puppet-
show of religion.
One could spend a month, yes, a year, in Rome, if his heart were
not elsewhere, as mine is. I was yesterday at the Vatican Museum,
where the galleries, taken altogether, are said to be nearly two miles
long, and almost entirely filled with antique sculpture. The Apollo
Belvidere — the celebrated group of Laocoon and his sons — the
Antinous and the Jupiter are all there. Then tlie Capitol, likewise,
contains an immense number of statues and bas-reliefs ; while more
than a half-a-dozen palaces in Rome have picture galleries, filled with
gems from the best masters. In the Doria palace, the other day, we
went through seven immense rooms filled with valuable paintings,
before we reached the gallery, which comprises three sides of a very
large square. The beauty of some of these works is indescribable, and
the effect of some of them remains on the mind long, long after you
have ceased to look at them. I remember now, as distinctly as if I had
the picture before me, Sassoferrato's picture of the Virgin in grief, and
Raphael's Madonna, which I saw at Florence. I think I never can
forget those pictures, or one head of Beatrice Cenci, by Guido. I saw a
grand exhibition of the Pope and Cardinals at the Sistine Chapel the
other day, which I cannot describe to you by letter, but will amuse you
with when we meet. It was last Wednesday ; and the occasion of their
meeting was for the Cardinals to have ashes sprinkled upon them
which the Pope had blessed. The Pope is a venerable-looking old man,
and it was sad to see him engaged in such mummery. Yet we ought
to judge lightly, for none of us know how strong the prejudices of
education may be. The environs of Rome are covered with ruins which
speak of buried centuries."
SUCCESS IN PHILADELPHIA. 153
CHAPTER VII.
SUCCESS IN PHILADELPHIA.
The Philadelphia church was approaching completion;
kind friends had been busy in preparing a pleasant place of
residence ; time and money were both flying ; everything
called for a speedy return home. During his absence, Mrs.
Bethune had been transported by water from Liverpool to
London in order to consult Sir Astley Cooper and Sir James
Clarke. At this place her husband joined her, to make the
discovery that even the most learned doctors may be found
napping. The accomodations not being extensive, when the
two physicians retired for consultation, Mr. Bethune was
in a position to overhear their remarks. They had a pleas-
ant interview; one relating how he on a certain occasion
came very near to fighting a duel. The difiiculties and
danger of the position occupied some time to describe, and
they were about to separate when one recalled the patient.
" But what shall we do with Bethune's wife ? " " Oh, give
her the old pill," was the ready reply. It is superfluous to
add that this most expensive medical attendance quickly
terminated.
It was not until the 7th of May, that the party sailed from
Liverpool to the United States, and, in due time, reached
Philadelphia. The church edifice, a very neat building in
the Grecian style, was completed soon after his arrival, and
solemnly dedicated to God by Mr. Bethune, who preached
154 AIEMOm OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
a sermon from Psalms xxvii., 4. Gratefully he had written
from Rome : " What f^n excellent soul is Morris and the
rest of them. How I will work for them when I get back."
There was plenty to do and he plunged into it with all his
might. His popularity increased ; and his being talked of
for other pulpits made his position towards his own con-
gregation more commanding and easy.
In the month of July, he pronounced his discourse on
" Genius" before the literary societies of Union College, and
its opening sentence, ^^ Forsan et liaec olim meminisse jic-
vahW'' was a bit of true prophecy. This effort of his at
making a public address of a character not purely or even
chiefly religious, was the first of a long train of brilliant
lectures, which brought renown and even money to the
popular minister, but whose chief use was, as he himself
intended, to induce many to come and hear him preach the
Gospel who would otherwise have stayed away altogether.
G. W. B. to Mrs. J. B. " October 20, 1837-
I fear you will scarcely believe me when I say that I have been so
driven, as not to have five minutes' time to write, for a fortnight past,
any thing but sermons. I have a pile of letters lying unanswered before
me, that is distressing to look at. I fear I have undertaken too much,
for, besides my Sunday sermons, I am carrying on in the week a course
of lectures on the Ephesians, which I write out, and which give me more
trouble than any other service. The new members of the congregation
are to be found out and visited, and adjusted in their proper places ;
besides which, I have to be at the end of everything, or it is ill done if
done at all. You blame me for studying at night, but if it were not for
those few still, uninterrupted hours of the twenty-four, I could not
mnintain my position at all. I am now placed in a dangerous situation,
for I enjoy a great degree of general popularity. Double the number
are turned away from my church doors of those who get in at the
evening service. I know I do not deserve this from any talents I have,
and therefore I must strive to preserve such an opportunity of useful-
SUCCESS IX PHILADELPHIA. 155
cess by severe study, that study being direeted as far as I can do it, to
making the gospel simple and plain. My health has not suffered from
it, but, on the contrary, the trouble and anxiety from which I find a
refuge in study wears, or would wear me down much more. I do not
wish to murmur. The lot which God assigns me is best for me, and it
is not often I show my trouble to any one, for I endeavor for the sake
of others to keep a cheerful face ; but I have my afflictions and some-
times I think they are far from being light."
To THE Rev. Mr. M— . " Jan. 4, 1838.
I am rather in difficulties myself (though this is enire nous), my
church to outside appearance goes on prosperously, and there are few
preachers in town, who seem to have the popularity I have just now, yet
as an unfortunate author said to me the other day, ' It is very strange,
that which every body praises, nobody buys.' My books, I mean my
pews, go off very slowly. The hard times solve the riddle however."
G. W. B. TO IMrs. J. B. '-March 10, 1838.
During tlie whole of last week, I intended each day to write,
but was really too unwell. I had to deliver a lecture before the Athen-
ian Institute on Tuesday evening, and caught cold coming home. The
Athenian Institute lectures correspond somewhat with those of the Stuy-
vesant Institute of New York. They have been overwhelmingly popu-
lar. It was computed that, after tickets for seventeen hundred persons
were issued, they could have sold seven hundred more. My subject was
* Socrates,' his life and opinions. 1 only used it, however, for an indi-
rect argument in favor of the necessity of revelation, in which, if I may
credit the opinions of my friends. Dr. Ludlow, and Mr. Biddle, I was
quite successful. The lecture will probably be published in the Knick-
erbocker Magazine, when I may have your judgment upon it.
I have reason to believe that ray standing in Philadelphia is becoming
higlier and higher every day. People who should have known me as
my fother's son, when I first carae to town, now seek to know me, and
I have a decided and acknowledged position among the scholars of the
city. All this I only care for so far as it increases my influence as a
minister, and may enable me to do good. Fame and mere popularity
are, of all human pursuits, the most vaporous ; but to promote, as an in-
156 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
strument in God's hands, the kingdom of his blessed Son, and point wan-
dering souls back to their Father's house, is indeed an honour. — I am
sorry to say my congregation increases slowly. The hard times are
against us."
From this period our minister became Doctor of Divinity.
He received this degree causa honoris from the University
of Pennsylvania in 1838, and for ten years, from 1839 to
1849, was an active Trustee of that Institution.
Mrs. J. B. to G. W. B. ''January 5, 1839.
Since you left I have often read over the sweet lines you addressed
to me> and never without tears. — I have been asked for them for the
Intelligencer. I don't know whether it would be well to publish them ;
I fear your growing popularity will excite envy. Your sermon of the
evening has been much talked of. "
G. V/. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " January 14, 1839.
I am happy that you were pleased with the verses I addressed to you.
If they have any merit it must arise from their being
' The flow of feeling,
Not of art. '
As to their being published, so far from having any objection, I wish
it, and but waited to hear how you regarded them. I should like to pay
openly a tribute of regard and grateful affection to my mother. But the
Christian Intelligencer is not the place for them. In the first place they
print abominably, making the most absurd errors, and then the lines
would be buried there. No, if George Duffield will take the trouble to
copy them distinctly into a clear hand, and carry them, or send them
with my compliments to the Knickerbocker, I should like it better. My
first verses to Mary were published there, and were copied all over from
it.
My hands are full. It is, however, my weekly seronons which press
me so hard. It is a sad thing to have a little popularity as a preacher
in a regular pulpit. The drain upon one is excessive, and there is no
let up as the Yankees say."
DEATH OF THE PATROON. 157
Some of our readers may have seen a beautiful engraving
which apjDeared about this time representing Washington in
the attitude of prayer. He appears to have retired from
the camp which is seen at a little distance, and to have
knelt down under the covert of a thicket to ask counsel and
guidance of God in his sore perplexity. Perchance it was
at Valley Forge where his fortunes and his hopes touched
the lowest point, perhaps it was before Yorktown where his
toils and his faith were crowned with success. The en-
graving was made in keeping with the representations of a
Quaker who was eye-witness of the scene. This was used
to illustrate the Cliristian Keepsake, and Mr. Bethune yielded
to the request of Mr. L. G. Clarke to accompany the en-
graving with a contribution. In these minor e5brts his pen
had a facility which of itself would have secured feme and
competency.
In the latter days of January, 1839, occurred the death of
the Patroon of Albany, the excellent and venerable Stephen
Van Rensselaer. That this was a cause of heart-felt sorrow
to Dr. Bethume we need not say for he has left a record of
his feelings on the occasion.
He writes to Mrs. Van Rensselaer on the 3d of February.
" My Dear Madam :
If I have not been among the first with words of sympathy, it was be-
cause I dared not intrude at once upon the sacredness of your sorrow.
But I can forbear no longer. The many kindnesses of him who has en-
tered into his rest, the precious memory of many days spent within the
home hallowed by his meek and gentle affection, and the frequent privi-
lege of kneeling with you and yours to implore the grace of God's pres-
ence in his hour of aflaiction, have given my heart the right to bleed with
yours.
Yet what shall I say? I need not speak of consolation. God has
already given it. You have marked the perfect and beheld the upright,
158 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
tliat the end of that man is peace. The patient siifferings over which
you have watched so long are ended. His pains have ended. He is
asleep in Jesus. The venerable head, hoary in righteousness, is now
crowned with glory, the fight has been victorious, the race won, the
faith kept. O what gain has death been to him. ' If ye loved me,' said
Jesus, ' ye would rejoice because I said I go unto my Father. ' And
he whom we love and mourn is with Jesus and the Father now.
As I close this letter I am preparing to go to my pulpit that I may
speak to my people of him whose hands laid the corner-stone of our lit-
tle church. The text that I have chosen is Jeremiah ix., 23-24. But
how will I dare to speak of all his worth to those who knew him not as
I have known him. Yet to God must be given the praise of an example
the most excellent in meekness, in quietness, nobleness, and kindness
we have ever witnessed or read of in modern days."
The sermon took True Glory for its theme and appeared
in pamphlet form. It is also in the volume of " Bethune's
Orations ;" but this is the summing up of the whole, it is
not tiresome to read and will be its own apology :
" Glorying in the Lord is not incompatible with the possession of
wisdom., power, or riches.
The highest glory of man, in this life, is to be the instrument of God's
* loving kindness,' judgment and righteousness ; and none can be said ' to
know him' aright, or ' understand ' the beauty of his character, wlio
strive not to imitate him in the exercise of those admirable attributes.
If, then, any degree of wisdom be ours, it is our high privilege to use
it in the advancement of his glory, and the best good of our fellow men ;
and the more wisdom we possess, the greater is our faculty for that bless-
ed end.
If we have any degree of p)ou'er, or influence in society, (and none of
us is without some) it is our high privilege to use that influence for the
vindication of the Redeemer's name, and the guidance of our fellow
men in the way to glory ; and the greater our influence, tiie more effi-
cient our example and zeal may be.
If we have any degree of riches, it is our privilege, by a heavenly al-
chemy, to turn the dross that perisheth, into eternal and incorruptible
LITERARY LECTURES. 159
treasures, which shall fill the treasury of God with the priceless jewels
of ransomed souls ; and the greater our riches, the greater means we
have for doing good in Christ's most holy name.
Certainly, earth hath no nobler spectacle (and it is one angels leave
heaven to contemplate) than that of a good man, preserving, amidst
the temptations of wisdom, and power, and riches, his humble trust in
God his Saviour, as his highest glory, and his delight in serving his fel-
low men, as his next chiefest good. His is a wisdom the most ignorant
must venerate ; a power the most malicious must approve ; and a wealth,
which envy itself would hardly dare to steal.
This wisdom, and power, and riches, may be attained by us all. For,
though our learning may be poor, our influence narrow, and our means
small, he ' that glorieth in knowing and serving the Lord,' hath done
his duty, when he hath done, through Divine grace, what he could.
It was a magnificent tribute of respect and honor to one
of the best of men. " These things did Araunah as a king
give unto the king." Dr. Bethune occasionally reposes
himself from graver writings with a bit of facetioiisness, and
then bis pen is apt to run away with him. " Tell sister
Bell " he scribbles to his mother, " that I owe her many
thanks for her kind present, my understanding as well as my
heart is clothed with gratitude; and my memory must become
slippery indeed if I am ever worsted in an endeavor to recall
her deeds of love, which have my warmest approval though
she thinks they were but so so, sew sew indeed they must
have been. By the way the shoemaker 'who put them
together, before he sent them home, jDut them in his window
before which I saw quite a crowd of lovers of the fine arts
flattening their noses in gaping admiration."
Two other well known literary j^erformances came from
his pen during this year, — the discourse on " Leisure, its Uses
and Abuses, " delivered 9th March before the New York
Mercantile Library Association, and the " Age of Pericles,"
160 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
read before the Athenian Institute of Philadelphia in the
same year. These performances established a fime which
future efforts maintained.
A funny story is told of the grievous mistake of one of
Dr. Bethune's old parishioners concerning the aim of the
"Age of Pericles." When the lecture was to be repeated in
Boston, he met liis formar pastor and said " Vf ell, doctor,
I have bought a ticket and am coming to hear you to-night.
When I told my wife about it, she asked, * But who is this
Perikels ? ' " The good man pronounced the last syllable
as in "barnacles." " The fact was that I never had heard oi
the man, but I said, ' if you are such a fool as not to know
that, it is high time for you to begin to study.' But now
doctor do tell me, what is the reason that you are going to
give a whole lecture about how^ long the old fellow lived?"
" Whilst his reputation was thus culminating in Philadel-
phia," writes the accomplished Dr. Dunglison, in his Obitu-
ary Notice for the American Philosophical Society, "he vras
energetically affording his powerful aid to every scheme for
the promotion and diffusion of general literature and science?
and for the good of his fellow men. Early and prominent
among these was the 'Athenian Institute;' the object of
wdiich W'?s to establish a course of lectures, to be delivered
gratuitously by literary gentlemen of Philadelphia, and
which, for a time, w^as eminently successful. The first course
was given in the winter of 1838, and the last in that of 1842.
Large and intelligent audiences assembled together to listen
to the diversified discourses, of which none were more popu-
lar than those of Dr. Bethune.
In the different reunions of the respectable members of
the Board of Directors of the Institute, he was placed in
intimate intercourse with the first literary and scientific
AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY. IGl
gentlemen of the city, by whom his sterling qualities were
at once appreciated, and his claims to be regarded as a true
lover of wisdom cheerfully conceded."
In April, 1839, a distinction was granted him, which he
estimated as one of the highest to be found in our countrj^
— "Among the honors conferred upon me hitely," he
writes to Mrs. J. B., "h a unanimous (very unusual)
election to be a Member of the American Philosophical
Society. Think of my being a philosopher.'' Of this
Institution Dr. Dunglison furnishes the following sketch.
" This venerable society which is so well known at home
and abroad, and which reckons amongst its members many
of the scientists of all nations, has been considered to owe
its origin to a secret debating society called ' the Junto '
formed by Franklin in lT2t, which was limited to a small
number of members, restricted in its objects and local in its
character. This appears to have been kept up actively for
a time, but on the increase of the Country it seemed to be
necessary to have a society whose aims should be greater,
and be more markedly a scientific body ; and accordingly
Franklin in 1743, issued a circular entitled ' A proposal for
promoting useful knowledge among the British Plantations
in America ' ; and this was the real origin of ' The American
Philosophical Society/ It appears, however, that in the
year 1750, a new society was formed, also called 'the
Junto ' and essentially resembling in organization the
ancient Junto founded in 1727 of which indeed it was
probably the sanctioned successor and this new Junto
became amalgamated with the society founded in 1743, but
not until the close of the year 1768, the united society
assuming the name, as at present, of ' The xlmerican Philo-
sophical Society, ' held at Philadelphia for promoting
11
162 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
useful knowledge, and on the second of January, 1Y69, held
its first meeting and its first election. The society has
from time to time published valuable volumes of its
' Transactions,' which are issued regularly and dis-
tributed to its members and to the various scientific
institutions of all countries ; from which it receives in re-
turn, as well as from distinguished physicists everywhere,
the published accounts of their important labors."
" It was," says Dr. Dunglison, " at one of the meetings of
the Board of Directors of the Athenian Institute that I first
saw Dr. Bethune, and I well remember the favorable im-
pression he made on rae, as he did on all. We generally
walked home together with Dr. Patterson, Judge Kane and
Professor Dallas Bache, and often with our friend Mr.
Benjamin W. Richards, taking our wives by surprise ;
who, at times, were wholly unprepared to entertain us as
they would have wished. And Dr. Bethune often mentioned
the equanimity and hospitality of my own excellent wife
when there was nothing but boiled eggs to offer us for
supper, and referred with enthusiasm to its being one of the
most agreeable reunions he had experienced. This was
before the four gentlemen first mentioned had resolved
themselves with me into the Club, if it may be so called,
which Dr. Bethune suggested we should call " The Five."
In this club we had no fixed evenings for meeting. It
depended so much upon our meeting together at theAmerican
Philosophical Society, or elsewhere. Occasionally a stran-
ger was admitted ; but usually we were alone. In my
memoir I state how much the pleasures of the evening were
owing to Dr. Bethune, who was ever cheerful ; full of
anecdote; and pointed, but judiciously and amiably directed,
repartee. Never did I hear from him any allusion that
could be the cause of discomfort to the most sensitive.
16;
After this period we were in tbe habit of seeing each
other often. His mind was of the most scrutinizing kind,
and many subjects we had been equally engaged in inves-
tigating. Pbih^logical inquiries he was very partial to ;
and when we returned from listeiiing to public or private
lectures, there was always something we had heard which
famished matter for inquiry, and which we had to decide at
tim.es by a reference to some work in my library, with the
richness of whicli on particular subjects, he often expressed
his gratification.
During his visit to me after he loft Philadelpliia, oc-
casion often occurred for such reference ; and it was a
source of real pleasure to my boys to aid us in our re
searches. His advent on the occasion of such visits was
always hailed with pleasure by my excellent wife, of whom,
on the occasion of her death, he speaks in one of his letters
(March 10, 1853) with so much of feeling and truth, as well
as by my children."
Having requested from Dr. Dunglison some account of
the individuals composing this remarkable club, he replies,
that he might be justiued, in sa3nng with the great dram-
atist, of each of them :
" ' His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him that nature might stand up
And say to all the world, * This was a man.' "
"These are designated in my 'Obituary Notice' as
congenial spirits ; and it is difficult to imagine five that
could be more so. Although by their avocations they had
all been more or less restricted in their reading and studies,
all might be regarded as conversant with those general
accomplishments that appertain to the educated gentleman.
It was difficult, therefore, to start any topic of inquiry
and discussion in which they could not generally par-
1G4 :memoir of geo. w. betiiune, d. d.
ticipate, and on which liglit could not be thrown by one or
more of the party ; and hence it is, that their meetings were
happily designated by Judge Kane as ' quiet, joyous and
instructive.'
The very nature of their avocations necessarily led
to their arguments being diversified. Dr. Robert M.
Patterson, at the time Director of the Mint of the
United States, had been, for many years, Professor of
Natural Philosoph}^, first in the University of Pennsylvania,
and, afterwards, in the University of Virginia. Judge
Kane was an accomplished member of the bar, and after-
wards Judge of the District Court of the United States
Professor Alexander Dallas Bache was Professor of Natural
Philosophy iu the University of Pennsylvania, and after-
wards, and at the time of his death, the distinguished
Superintendent of the Coast Survey of the United States.
Dr. Dunglison was Professor of the Institute of Medicine
in the Jefierson Medical College of Philadelphia ; and every
one of ' the five ' had held offices in the American Philo-
sophical Society, — Dr. Patterson, Judge Kane, and Profes-
sor Bache as President, Dr. Dunglison as Vice President, and
Dr. Bethune as a Member of the Board of officers. All are,
alas ! gone except Dr. Dunglison.''
Between these gentlemen there was not only a pleasant
intimacy, bat a league for mutual defence. When, after
the death of Judge Kane, his reputation was assailed on po-
litical grounds, it brought forth a rebuke from Dr. Bethune,
perhaps the most severe he ever penned ; and when,
at a later period, Professor Bache requested that the
interests of Dr. Kane, the Arctic Explorer, should be pro-
moted, appealing to the memory of " the Five," Dr. Be-
thune felt the obligation and responded handsomely.
He made good his right to these elevated distinctions.
<<WISTER PARTIES." 165
by repeated and higlily applauded lectures at the Smith-
sonian Institute, urgently called for by Professor Henry,
who was at the head of that foundation. Connected with
the American Philosophical Society, there was a very
remarkable social entertainment which went by the name
of '' Wister parties.'' The name originated from Dr.
Wister, who was President of the Society, and these meet-
ings were designed to discuss scientific and philosophical
subjects. They assembled the choice spirits of Philadel-
phia, and distinguished strangers, in the most charming
reunions, and became quite renowned. Drs. Bethune and
Ludlow were constant attendants, and it was evident
that their dignified presence gave a higher tone to the
gatherings.
In many ways this year, 1839, was an important era in
Dr. Bethune's life. In the spring he printed his first
volume entitled " The Fruit of the Spirit." He had already
published addresses, contributed frequently to Magazines
and Annuals, but now he came prominently before the
public as author. The work was issued at the request of
his congregation. Dr. W. J. R. Taylor says,
*'It had passed through three separate processes of deUvery to his
people ; first, briefly in the prayer-meeting, at another time in more en-
larged form, in the weekly lecture, subsequently, in a course of Sab-
bath sermons, and finally, he revised it for the press. It was liis favor-
ite work, has passed through several editions, and bids fair to remain a
household treasure for generations to come."
In the autumn, the chapel of the New York Orphan Asy-
lum, at Bloomingdale, was to be opened. This magnificent
charity had grown up under the care of his mother, and
now that it had become well established in a beautiful loca-
tion, the son was requested to preach the sermon for the
166 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
occasion. lu the month of June he was elected President
of the General Synod of his church, and in this capacity
addressed a letter to the Court of Holland, in reference to
the Mission work in the Dutch possessions, and held fie-
quent correspondence with the missionaries in the East.
Dr. Hazlett relates his first introduction to Dr. Bethune :
" Capt. Magruder said, * Come go Avith ms to hear Dr. Betliune lec-
ture to-night.' It was very stormy, and they found only the sexton and
an old woman as the audience ; but the Dr. rose, gave out a hymn, and
sung it liimself. After prayer, and eloquent reading of scripture, he de-
livered one of the most profound lectures I have ever heard. My friend
said, ' "Why did you not keep that lecture for a better night. It was too
good to throw away upon us.' The Dr. replied, ' It is my duty to
preach the gospel to the best of my ability under all circumstances, and
it is wrong to punish those who come in stormy weather, for the delin-
quency of others.' I set him down then for a great man, and concluded
that he preached the truth for the love of the truth, and not for the praise
of men."
On the 10th of April, 1841, news of the death of Presi-
dent Harrison reached Philadelphia, and the next day found
our ready preacher in his pulpit prepared to improve the
solemn occasion. The sermon, which was a tender appeal
to his countrymen, and thought worthy of publication,
must have been prepared in the course of a few hours.
The speaker did not belong to the same party as the Presi-
dent, and with the greater freedom pronounced this sharp
rebuke upon political bigotry :
*' Standing, in our imagination, tliis morning, besicle the grave of our
departed patriot, who, even of those that struggled most against Ms rise,
can look down upon liis sleeping dust, nor feel a pang of keen reproach,
if ever he hath done his honor wrong, or breathed a hasty word that
might have touched liis honest heart, or cast an insult upon his time-
honored name ? And vile, yes, very vile is he, whose resentments the
grave cannot still. Whence this sacredness which death throws over
DEATH OF PRESIDENT HARRISON. 167
the memory of character and life ? Is it because tlie dead are defence-
less, and return not an answer again ? Is it because God hath come in
between us and our fellow creature, and vindicated his right to be judge
alone ? Is it because in the humiliations of the sepulchre, we see the
frailty of that nature we share with the departed, our own aptness to
err, and how liable we are to be misjudged? O, my friends, why should
we wait for death to teach us charity, when it is too late to practice it,
and repentance hath become remorse ? Why not remember that the
living require our candor and forbearance ? Why reserve all our gen-
tleness of judgment for the dead, who are beyond the reach of our abso-
lution ? They were once as the living, and the living shall soon be as
they. It is, indeed, enough to bring us back to a better opinion of hu-
man nature, to witness such a spectacle of union in sorrow and in honor
for our departed chief among those, who, a little while since, were di-
vided into earnest and opposing factions ; but oh ! would it not be far
more ennobling, to see the living pledging themselves to the living over
the fresh earth of his grave, that henceforth, though they may honestly
differ in their doctrines and policy, they will yet believe in the upright-
ness of each otlier's motives, and the sincerity of each other's belief?
How hateful does censorious bitterness, and sneering suspicion look, in
the face of your opponent ! Yet such is your deformity in his sight,
when you revile liis principles and r.ail against his friends. When, oh!
when shall tliis rancor, this cruel persecution for opinion's sake, this
damning inquisition after false motives, this fratricidal rending of heart
from heart because our mental vision is not the same ; this exiling of the
honorable from the honorable, because they have not the same sibila-
tion in their Shibboleth ; this waste of wealth, of mental power and un-
tiring zeal, which our country, and our whole country should enjoy;
when shall it cease ? Must it be perpetual ? I know that the words of
a poor preacher are weak against tliis strong and vast-spreading evil ;
but as I love my country, and God knows I love her from my inmost
heart, and never more than in this hour of her sorrow, I must speak. I
cannot believe that I have a right to hate and despise my brother, be-
cause he reads another book than my own, or that he should hate and
despise me, because conviction forces me to cling to mine."
Mrs. J. B. to G. W. B. ''Aioril 30, 18*1.
I was much pleased with your short discourse on our poor old
President. I was afraid you would not acquit yourself so well, as you
168 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
did not think as highly of him as some did. What a lesson we have
had as a nation. I did not tliink I had as mucli American feeling in me
as I felt on reading the account of his death ; my blood all tingled
through my veins and I found relief only in tears. I retired as soon as
I could and fell on my knees and prayed to God to sanctify the dispen-
sation to the nation, a sinful, Sabbath-breaking and otherwise guilty
nation, though exalted to Heaven in point of privileges."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. ''Maij 1.
I am glad you liked my little sermon. Would a Harrison man have
done so much had my friend "Van Buren died? I felt as an American
and as a Christian (I trust) and forgot party."
And now we have to carry our popular minister through
many months of gloom and depression. His continued
speaking and the failure of his health from overwork brought
in the earlier months of 1841, an attack of ''bronchitis,
laryngitis, or both,'^ as his letters express it. He was per-
emptorily forbidden by his physician to preach for two
months; and could he have quietly submitted he might have
bided over the trouble and saved himself much annoyance.
His congregation paid him the compliment of declaring they
could not do without him ; and forced him to obtain a writ-
ten opinion from his phj^sicians, Bell, Chapman and Hodge,
that a sea Yojage was absolutely necessary to him, before
they would consent to his absenting himself. This paper
convinced them, and with a total change of tone the Con-
sistory voted a leave of absence for such time as should be
necessary, and the substantial accommodation of two
quarters' salary in advance was superadded. He writes in
acknowledgement :
''May 15, 1841.
I thank the gentlemen of that meeting for their kind sympathy, for the
leave of absence granted me, and their recommendation to the Board of
Trustees that two quarters of my salary (for which I have no just
VISIT TO EUKOPE. 1G9
claim) be advanced to me in the present exigency. Every added proof
of kindness from the people of my charge, deepens my affliction in
being compelled to intermit for a season the labors in which I have
found my great delight.
I sliall pursue, with the leave of Providence, the advice of tliose
medical gentlemen whose opinion is before you ; because their opinion
in a matter of health, would naturally be preferred by a sick man, to
that of any unprofessional adviser; because past experience of the
effect of the sea on my constitution, and my present symptoms confirm
me in believing their advice to be good ; and because I owe it to my^i-elf,
to the church, and to God, to recover and preserve, so far as means
may, that health without which I should lose my usefulness.
That some proofs, that I have not acted precipitately in this
matter, may be preserved, permit me earnestly to request that the
letter of Doctors Bell, Cliapman a,nd Ilodge be copied on the minutes
of the Consistory and the Board of Trustees. No one, wlio may read it,
will have a right to blame, but will think that it was not unreasonable to
grant me, after nearly four years' hard service of mind and body, a
furlough for a few months when rest seemed essential to my recovery,
and that rest, in the opinion of those who ought to know best, would be
most profitably spent on shipboard."
Accordingly Dr. Bethune sailed with his wife on the
twenty-sixth of May, and arrived at Gibraltar on the twenty-
fourth of June. On tlic nineteenth of July the travellers
reached Naples, and a letter is at once sent homeward.
G. ^y. B. to Mrs. J. B. " Naples, Juhj 19, 1841.
Among our passengers on board the Oriental, was the second son of
Walter Scott, rather a nice young man, going out as secretary to the
Persian embassy. We made a little acquaintance together. Malta, you
know, has been quite famous as the place where St. Paul was ship-
wrecked, and we went to see the place where he is said to have shaken
the viper from his hand. But alas for our antiquarian enjoyment, very
good arguments are given to show that the apostle never was at Malta,*
but that Melita was, and is, an island in the Adriatic."
* Better arguments to show that he was. J3d.
170 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Naples was found delightful, Sorrento charming, every
thing rose-color, and we may imagine that our classic minister
enjoyed the time at Pompeii and Vesuvius, A letter received
at Florence, from E. T. Throop, Esq., enclosed money and a
sort of apology for the Rothschilds of Naples, who had
hesitated to make a small advance ; and thus helped on his
way, he made a hasty trip down the Rhine and pausing
but little in London, reached home before the beginning of
September. His trip had done him some good, but not as
much as was hoped. But still "objectaminoiHsresistentice'' he
chafed at the enforced quiet. '' It is impossible,'' he ssljs, ''to
prevent myself from anxiety, but I pray to be able to look to
Him who can and will sustain his tried but trusting children,
I try to keep my spirit willing, but my fiesh is weak.'' He
was forbidden the segar by the inexorable Bell, and the
deprivation was great. It is related of him that a brother
clergyman with whom he had frequent disputes on points
of doctrine, came into his study one morning and found him
enveloped in the blue and fragrant wreaths. " What,
smoking?" gasped the visitor, uplifting his hands in
astonishment. '* Yes," said the doctor, very coolly, " I am
trying to preserve my orthodoxy,"
But he could better bear the loss of nicotine, than the
secession of a part of his congregation, which came with
the frightfully hard times.
He writes to Mrs. J, B., February 14, 1842.
" Every thing here is u^jside down, far worse than in New York. We
have no money at all that we can rely upon. I went to tea one night
last week thinking that I had twenty-five dollars in my pocket, and when
I went out next morning, found that it was barely worth fifteen. There
never was such diflOlculty knoAvn before.
LETTERS. 171
• Eheu fugaces
labuntur anni.' "
He writes a little later to his friend Mr. May :
''Feb. 22, 1842.
My health, about which you so kindly express anxiety, is, I am happy
to say, improving. My A-oice is still weak, and I suppose must remain
so for a time at least. I continue to preach but once a day, and keep in
the house at night. I am sometimes impatient I fear, but then again I
remember the goodness of my gracious Master to me in times past.
How much permission he has given me to work for him, how long my
voice has been granted to me ! O surely then I ought to rejoice that I
am in his hands, yes, in those faithful hands,, the hands of my elder
brother, that was nailed for me upon the cross. That dear union of
Divine strength and human weakness, (except sin) how precious is the
thought of it to our hearts when we feel ourselves weak and unworthy !
We have a good master to serve. The joy of serving him is wages
enough.
The flare-up in my congregation has subsided ; instead of doing me
hurt, they have done me much good.
My heart has been very sad from the loss of many friends by death.
Four or five gentlemen of high intellectual character, with whom I was
in the habit of frequently associating, have been buried within a few
weeks, and another now lies very low."
G. W. B. to Mrs. J. Bethune, March 14.
" Next Friday I shall be thirty-seven. I feel much older. I have
grown ten years older in the last year. It is impossible for me to rise
above the weakness of mind and heart. I know God is good, that
I have ten thousand blessings, that I deserve none, yet I am depressed,
not ungrateful, I hope, nor murmuring, but depressed."
The secession or flare-up in the congregation was oc-
casioned by a visit to San Carlo in Naples, the largest opera-
house in Europe. It was the Queen's birth-day, and there
172 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHU^E, D. D.
was to be a grand performance, and an assembly of all the
nobility. Mrs. Bethune had a great curiosity to see the
show and hear the music ; and the faithful husband would
not allow his invalid wife to go alone. The house was
brilliantly lighted, and with their cultivated musical taste
the entertainment must have been delicious. They did
not go for the opera, but rather to see the great people, and
soon retired. The chaise d porteur in which Mrs. Bethune
went was likely to attract attention, and the news was
straightway sent across the Atlantic. Upon Dr. Bethune's
return home, and after his first sermon, he was assailed
on this account by a prominent lady of his congregation.
Endeavoring to explain the circumstances, she would listen
to nothing, but said " That is enough, take my name off
your church books." Others left with her, and the affiiir
brought the persecuted minister to a sick bed.
The following anecdote has been carefully shaped and
sent to us, giving another instance of unkind judgment of
this most godly man.
"On a former visit to Europe," writes our friend "the
Rev. Mr. Kirk, now (1845) Dr. Kirk of Albany, being in
Paris at the same time, they used to gratify their love for
music together. On a particular Sunday evening they had
been singing some songs appropriate to the day, when a
third party, a gentleman of many admirable qualities yet
having no deep sympathy with religious men, but still ])ro-
fessing to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God
(by the way the last clause is rather as tlie Hebrew of
Micah has it, vi., 8, and in the margin Humhle thyself to
walk with God), was occupying apartments in the same
house. Their exercises had ceased, and Mr. Bethune was
passing to his own room. Our young friend, who now
CTIPvISTTAX UNTOX. 173
holds p. proiiiincrit position in his ]^rofossion, M'as then on
his trnvels, and greatly was he scandalized, and at a verv low
figure did he estimate the genuineness of Bethnne's earnest-
ness when he overheard him on that Sunday evening in
Paris, after those sacred harmonies, humming on his way
the melody of an amusing secular song very common then
or before in New York.
It was the mind relaxed from its attentions roaming free
in its associations, the playful predominating, all unconscious
to its possessor. Quite as unconscious doubtless was he of
the tune he struck upon as of the listener, and of the
impression he was making, or that the incident was to be
remembered and told again. Ah ! if people had known
the man in his close walk with God how would he have been
saved frona this censorious spirit.
About this time he was frequently called to meet Dr.
Stephen H. Tyng on great public occasions. They were
the leading ministers of the city, both in the prime of life ;
sometimes they would indulge in sallies of wit directed
against each other. It is related that one year at the con-
clusion of the Anniversaries, Dr. Tyng expressed the great
pleasure that he had derived from the meetings ; the union
of Christians here giving him a sweet foretaste of that
perfect communion v/hich would be formed in heaven ;
when he was unfortunate enough to hint that all the good
people would come to his stand-point and occupy themselves
witli prayer-books. Instantly Dr. Bethune was on his feet.
" He felt exactly the same delight as his Reverend Brother,
in the privilege of mingling with believers, the joy of union
in the Lord ; and it brought vividly before him the idea of
that great heavenly concert which had been so beautifully
described by the preceding speaker, but he concluded there
was one thouo;ht that had never before occurred to his
174 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUXE, D. D.
mind, that in heaven all the Christians would become
''Dutch Reformed." It is needless to add that the audience
were convulsed with laughter at this most ridiculous propo-
sition.
In April, the hospitality of Dr. Bethune's house was
offered to Mar Johanan, the Nestorian Bishop ; a truly pious
man, who became so fond of his host, that he could not be
persuaded to change his residence during his stay in Phila-
delphia.
In the summer of this year, he visited Boston and
mingled freely with the celebrities there. Speaking of the
Phi Beta Kappa, he says : " Mr. W. B. Reed did capitally
with his oration," and he adds, "certainly I never heard
more wit in the same time from the different speakers. It
was a constant coruscation. I had to speak among the rest,
and they say I did pretty well, but it was totally unexpected
to me, and I was miserably frightened. I have received
much attention from literary men and others, indeed my
time has been constantly occupied. Bancroft, the historian,
has been indefatigable in his attentions. Mr. Justice Story
has also been very kind. I spent an evening with Allston,
the great painter of this country, and have been all to-day
and yesterday looking at his and other pictures ; there are
a great many good ones in Boston. Prescott sent me a
kind message, but I have been unable to see him or Dana.
I have been invited in the evening by a Mrs. S., sister-in-
law of our Mrs. S. Mrs. L., (wife of the eminent lawyer)
Mrs. H., who is the very sweet wife of a most accomplished
young man, and Mr. Abbot Lawrence have paid me atten-
tion.
G. "W. B. TO Miss C M . " Philadelphia, September 28.
My dear Child : I have really been trying to find time for an epis-
tolary chat with you ever since I received your last and abounding
TRANSCENDENTALISM. 175
letter, the more welcome because abounding, but I have not had a
moment's leisure except when completely tired of holding the pen, and
unfit to think. I am writing now with a sermon just brouglit to its
divisions, looking up imploringly in my face ; that must be finished, and
another, with diverse other things, before Sunday. I am also busy
upon my lectures, the four for the Athenian Institute, which require
much time in searching out references and in making plain my style
upon such abstract subjects. I have also to write within two weeks the
first lecture of the season for the Sunday school teachers, who turn out
in great numbers, and expect something elaborate. All this and much
more could be done very well if I had my time without interruption,
but you know how it is here. I want very mucli to get at my book on
the angels, which I am determined (Providence permitting) to write
this season. I have become so full on the subject that the distension is
painful.
By the way, speaking of books puts me in mind of Tayler Lewis,
whom you spoke of in a letter sometime since as being a neighbor of
yours. You may well like his ' Believing Spirit,' (is not that the title ?)
for it is a glorious burst of high philosophical feeling. No doubt Plato
was wrong in many things, he was not the sober, unromantic though
earnest thinker that liis master was, but his immortal longings were very
noble. Transcendentalism is platonisra run mad, and yet, transcen-
dentalism, mad and mischievous as it is, has done much good in Boston,
and bids fair to destroy old Unitarianism by spiritualizing the reasonings
of people. Unitarianism is the offspring of materialism, and the day of
materialism is wellnigh at an end.
The Synod made me one of their committee to select hymns for a
Sunday school book. At first I thought I would have nothing to do
with it, as we can not have a better book than the American Union's.
But then I thought again, it will add so many to the hymns appointed
to be sung in our churches. Now here 's a chance for you. Mark for
me all the hymns you love, and your father loves, and your mother
loves, and your sisters love, that the object can allow, and we will try
to get in as many as we can and have nice times in singing them by and
by Give me some of your own also. Just put on a paper the num-
bers and then mark the book in which they are.
Your punning in your last about my Phi Beta Kappa toast was
170 MEMOIR OF GEO. TV. BETHUNE, D. I).
Kaplial. Dr. Johnson himself could not say Phi ! upon such wit, but
would exultingly exclaim of you, Let the Fun dits try to Beta (beat her).
But really this is terrible. My trying to equal you reminds me that
the over-ambitious are liable to the fate of Esop's frog and steam
boilers. You will not believe me the less, because I put it just at the
close, that I shall be very happy, and I am sure my dear wife to whom
you have been such a comfort will be, to have you with us tliis winter.
Come as soon as you can, and thank your kind parents in our name
for letting you come. Love to all.
Yours veiy sincerely, G. W. B."
The month of Septeraber, was marked by the delivery
of the discourse on the " Eloquence of the Pulpit," before
the Porter Rhetorical Society of the Theological Seminary
at Andover. This oration has the distinction of being
the longest, if not the greatest, of his printed addresses.
Mrs. J. B. to G. \Y. B. " December 30.
I write to state that Miss Murray called to ask if it would be agree-
able to you to preach the sermon for the widows in the Dutch Church,
Lafayette Place. Dr. Knox expressed a wish to have it there. Dr.
Potts also said he would like to have you in his church; of course I
said Lafayette would be the most suitable. I heard Dr. Potts preach
two charity sermons last Sabbath; both admirable, one for Home
Missionaries in his own church which brought out $ 500, the oth-er in
Button's church in the evening ; text, ' He hath dispersed, he hath given
to the poor.' .... In speaking of relieving the wants of the poor, he
said we ought not merely to supply their immediate wants, but endeavor
to elevate. Now a political economist would rather take another view;
endeavor to sustain and prevent from falling into irremediable indi-
gence. At least this must iirst be done."
This letter relates to Dr. Bethune's sermon before
the Widows' Society ; and his provident mother gives him
full advice concerning the way in which to preach it.
EPISCOPAL CONTROVEP.SY. 177
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. ''April 30, 1843.
We are surrounded by excitements witii reference to the Episcopal
Controversy, and certainly the tendency that Avay is checked, but the
fashionable world is on their side. I am sick of the whole business, and
have been busy preaching justification by faith."
The controversy thus alluded to, was the famous one be-
tween Drs. Potts and Wainwright, originating in the sen-
timent uttered by Hon. Rufus Choate, in his celebrated
oration before the New England Society, delivered in the
old Broadway Tabernacle, Dec. 20, 1842, ' A church without
a Bishop, and a State without a King.' There were several
points in it which must have made it a peculiar trial to Dr.
Bethune. Dr. Potts was the pastor of his mother, and they
were frequently brought into the closest relations, while Dr.
Wainright was a most intimate friend. Perhaps there were
few houses in New York where Dr. Bethune was so fre-
quently and generously entertained, as at that of his Epis-
copal brother. The debate waxed hot and wrathy, and
good Dr. Potts, with all his strength of argument and clas-
sic beauty of style, did not shew the same dexterity in
management as distinguished his acute assailant ; and the
proud Presbyterian banner for a time passed under a
shadow. A caricature appeared of a man hurling a big
wheel at a large assembly of jars, which were thrown into
great consternation.
Short sketches of the more distinguished public charac-
ters now appeared in the New York Sun. In this gal-
lery our illustrious Doctor shone conspicuously. " I send
you," he writes to his mother, October 28, 1843, "for
your amusement, the sketch of your son in the Sun, the man
in the moon is nothing to such a solar luminary. It is per-
fectly ridiculous." This paper, while it has little merit in
12
178 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
itself, yet serves to show the high position he ah'eady occu-
pied in the public view. During one of his summer excur-
sions in Pennsylvania, he came in the vicinity of a preacher
of the doctrine of ''Perfection," and was led by curiosity
to attend his lecture. These men are not settled preachers,
but rove about the country addressing such audiences as
they can collect, assuming an air of superior virtue, and
unsettling the minds of good people, by extravagant views.
On this occasion the preacher had his house full, and Dr.
Bethune found it more agreeable to take his position at a
window. The argument being ended, an invitation was
given to any one present to reply ; this was done for effect,
as it was quite certain that in a plain country audience, no
one would be prepared to make a speech. But, to the dis-
may of the orator, a clear voice from the window rang
through the church :
" Paul said in liis Epistle to the Galatians, that when Peter was come
to Antioch, Paul withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed.
Now if Peter was right, then Paul was wrong, if Paul was right, then
Peter was wrong. One of these great Apostles must have been imper-
fect."
The Perfectionist, not seeing the person who spoke, and
confused with the well-made point, cried out, " Is that the
voice of Satan, or one of his imps that I hear ? " Our
brave Doctor, thus challenged, quickly presented himself
to the people. Announcing his well-known name, he said,
that the simple Scripture he had quoted, refuted the long
harangue, and advised them all to go home and not be dis-
turbed by such folly. Wherever the man afterwards went,
he had dinned into his ears, " If Paul was right, then Peter
was wrong, and if Peter was right, then Paul was wrong."
RIOTS IX PHILADELnilA. 179
For some years there had existed in Philadelphia a spirit
of lawlessness, which was rather enconraged than sub-
dued by the weak City Government. The Native American
party was now putting on its strength, and as its efforts
were directed against the foreign element in the popula-
tion, its advance created a corresponding bitterness of
feeling on their part. An important election was now in
prospect, and animosity ran high, until in May, 1844, the
forces came into actual conflict. For some days the streets
of that city were turned into a theatre of civil war. As
nearly as we remember, the Romish party took the lead in
aggressive movement, and the discovery of a large number
of fire-arms which had been concealed in the church of St.
Philip de Neri, excited the most extravagant fears among
the Americans. The riots now assumed more alarming
proportions ; the military were called out, and many of
the mob were shot down before the disturbance was
quelled. A reference to these disorders occurs in the fol-
lowing letter :
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. *' May 21, 1844.
My Dearest Mother: You will be glad to hear that we are all
well, after the exciting times through which we have passed. Persons
at a distance, I find, estimate our danger to have been greater than we
thought it ourselves. It was very dreadful to hear the roar, but the
noise came not near us, and, perhaps, we never were safer, because
guarded on every hand by vigilant patrols. The catholic population are
prodigiously frightened, and they ought to be, as it was their outrageous
and murderous violence, which led to all the mischief. The disgrace is
great, but I cannot doubt that the effect in the long run will be good."
At this exciting period, perhaps a little earlier, Dr. Bethune
delivered the annual sermon before "The Foreign Evangelical
Society," which was organized to oppose the power of
ISO MEMOIR OF GEO, "SV. BETIIUNE, D. D.
Popery. The text was 2. Cor. ix., 8 - 14, the subject, " The
strength of Christian Charity." It was a most elaborate
production, and v.diile teaching h^ve to all, it was a strong
blow aimed at the Romish system :
'* But the advocate of this cause may take yet higher ground. It is,
as we have proved, indispensable to the triumph of evangelical truth,
that its friends be united in catholic love, and concert of action. We
must make practical that article of our faith, which holds to one church,
and one communion of saints. The hosts of anti- Christian Rome are
many, but never divided. One heart, beating within the Vatican, circu-
lates one zeal through all the monstrous body, which returns again to
feed the fountain of its pernicious life. Popery knows no country, but
mingles with all people ; speaks all languages, but one creed ; shouts
for democracy in xlmcrica, and excommunicates the liberals of Spain;
demands repeal for Ireland, and arrests in France the movement of
July ; tolerates no other religion when it has the power, and whimpers
of persecution if, in Protestant lands, the Bible is read in the schools.
It speaks from the imperial city, and in ail the world, cardinal and pre-
late, and monk and priest and penitent own, by mystic sign and ready
genuflexion, devout submission. Its eyes are upon every man ; its voice
is heard in royal cabinets and republican legislatures ; its hands tamper
with the absolute sceptre and pollute the ballot box ; its learning gives
tutors to the children of the great, and opens free schools of error for
the children of the many; its charities mingle the poison of idolatry
with bread for the hungry and medicines for the sick. Everywhere it is
one, though in a thousand shapes. Who can avoid admiration of the
vastness, the energy, and the system of its combination ! No wonder
they are so strong, when they are so united.
Brethren, let the tactics of an enemy teach us the method of success
which the Gospel has taught in vain. There are portions of the Christian
world not papal, whose narrow bigotry refuses union with us ; but what,
except unworthy suspicions and weakness of faith, prevents a Catholi-
cism of evangelical servants under one Head and High Priest, Jesus?
Why should we know country, or language, or race, when wo are chil-
dren of one Father and servants of a mission to the world?
SERMON ON ROMANISM. 16]
Let us also consider the opportunities and means of usefulness which
our European brethren enjoy. The fabrics of superstition which
here are new and modified, there are crumbling to ruins, tottering in
decayed ugliness to their fall. The people more than suspect the alli-
ance of priesthood and tyranny to grind them in bondage. Every blow
now aimed at the despot, strikes the bigot ministers of a desecrated
cross. If the Bible be not recognized as the charter of freedom, the
right to read it will be claimed as the privilege of freemen. The sympa-
thies of every liberal heart are with a free religion, every advance of
popular rights opens the way for the Gospel, and each hour is big with
portents of far-spreading changes.
I would not speak in disparagement of learning with proper limits as
an aid to religion. But the church has too much idolized learning and
authority, ever since the Reformation. And what has been the conse-
quence? In university after university, on the continent of Europe,
professors of theology have substituted a proud rationalism for the child-
like faitli of Jesus ; and still more recently tlie most venerable seat of
learning in Britain has startled the Protestant world with the bad design
of uniting learning, genius and taste, in a conspiracy to bring back the
ages of darkness upon the world, when tlie few ruled the many and fat-
tened the priesthood. Popery again uplifts her bruised and brazen face
in hope, as she sees one so hoary witli years entering her noviciate, ap-
ing her pretensions, copying her garments, and practising her mummer-
ies ; boasting her titles, bearing aloft her symbols, and attempting, with
ridiculous failure, the thunder of her anathemas. Not a few Christians
prognosticate a general miscliief, and would invoke some Christian Her-
cules to slay the Hydra that comes forth from deeper shades than the
Lerngean swamp to ravage the Church.
Our friends in France and Switzerland have taught us better means
and better hopes, by sending an army of simple men, with no other
weapon than the pure Gospel on the h.oly page ; and God, who blessed
the rod of Moses, and the hammer of Jael, and the labours of primitive
Christianity, has blessed, and will bless, the colporteurs with their Bibles
and tlieir Tracts. Already they diffuse the holy leaven. Already have
many souls been brought to God. Already does superstition gnash her
tectli, as she feels the net drawn closer and closer around her by the
multitudes of these faithful men. Let us but increase the army as we
may, and Babylon herself shall fall before tliem. Strength is in their
weakness, for the excellency of the power is of God.
182 MEMOIR or GEO. \V. BETHUNE, D. D.
Consider, also, our deep interest in their successes. Already do many
Christians tremble at the incursions of popery upon our own soil. A
little while since, some of us may have smiled at these fears as vision-
ary. The light of the nineteenth century seemed too great in this land
of free thought to allow the influence of such superstition over a single
mind not educated under it from early life. But have we not seen with-
in a few years past, thousands of converts flockiug round the standard of
a vulgar, ignorant, and vile leader, whose pretensions to prophecy would
have been contemptible had they not been so mischievous. Have we
not also been astonished at the defection of grave and educated men
from the simple Gospel, as it is written in God's own word, to the au-
thority of shadowy tradition ; who, while they insist upon a church in a
priesthood of doubtful genealogy, would revive the aristocracy of an-
cient Pharisaism, which accounted the common people as little better
than profane. The growth of Mormonism among the vulgar, and of this
perversion of Christian doctrine which has no name of sufficient dignity
for utterance here among the more refined, shew us too plainly that
the human mind in no circumstances can be preserved from superstition
except by the Spirit of God.
We are not then safe from Romanism. Every eastern wind wafts
hitherward its priests and adherents laden with gifts to corrupt our
people. Already has the cry been heard arousing Christians to defence
of truth and freedom. But whence do they come. Why stand we only
on the defensive. Why may we not cross the sea and besiege Car-
thage? Why not plant our vanguards on the passes of the Alps, send
our spies into the very camp of the enemy, and await the happy mo-
ment (which, if it please God, is not distant,) when, like Atilla, though
with better weapons and higher aims, we may thunder at the gates
of Rome itself ? When ancient Rome fell, tlie empire was broken into
fragments. When papal Rome falls, popery will soon be no more.
Cue blow on the head is worth a hundred at its extremities. One thrust
to its heart, and all the convolutions of its myriad folds will relax in
death. Are there no smooth stones in ' the brook that flows fast by the
oracles of God'? Is there no shepherd boy nor herdsman's son among
those mountain Christians to wield a sling?
Christian brethren, I have done. "
This sermon was originally delivered in New York, hiii
LETTER OF MR. ORR. 183
either this discourse, or one similar in spirit must have been
spoken in Philadelphia, and produced a happy effect. Dr,
Bethune seems to have consented to its publication, but up-
on reflection changed his mind, when we find the matter
urged upon him in the following courteous letter.
Hector Orr to G. W. B. « May 27, 1844.
Ret. Sir : I have received your note instead of your MS. ; no per-
sonal inconvenience will be felt through your decision, for which you
certainly have high authority, since John Knox himself turned back
from Scotland, through the advice of friends. (I had written this when
Mr. Clark came in to get the ' copy ' ; I made him acquainted with
your latest views, and he in return informed me you were most probably
out of the city. My first inclination was to lay down the pen until a
better excuse for using it arrived, but having thought much about the
sermon and caused you to send more than once, from more than
a mile's distance, ' I wish to put on record' my reasons for urging the
publication.)
It has been my high privilege from early years to have intimate
intercourse with some of the most devoted Christians of this my native
city, an intimacy such as few without the pale of the church have
enjoyed — qualifying me to some extent, to enter into the feelings of
this great and venerable class at this time. The peculiar point on which
attention was first excited in this movement — the banishment of the
Bible — touched a chord in these men's breasts such as is unknown in the
moral anatomy of the demagogue ; next, the murder of their friends and
neighbors wrung this chord to torture, and their desertion by the secular
press completed the outrage ; and while suffering under this delirium,
infidel eavesdroppers have been apt to catch their exclamations and
report them as ' the sentiments of the party.'
To you, much honored friend, who, through elegant leisure or
refined toil, have long been familiar with ' man's duty and the reasons^
of it,' /need not stop in my drudgery to say that this fever in the whole
evangelical community is undesirable, or that it would be high Christian
kindness to allay it ; but this fact may have escaped you, that nothing
well adapted to this end has yet .appeared, except your sermon. In my
184 MEMOIR OF GEO. AV. BETIIUNE, D. D.
short experience I have found it a first requisite to the pacification of
chafed human nature, to evince a hearty appreciation of the cxcHing
wrong. Thence springs that confidence so indispensable to successful
persuasion, through which we become willing to be led in the way cf
peace, which in the present crisis is so eminently the path of duty.
This real sympathy with the torn heart of Philadelphia you alone have
exhibited, and I sought to extend the infiuence of this word fitly spoken,
beyond the mere compass of your voice."
About the same date wrote the Hod. Charles Sumner, of
Boston:
" How exalted in the scale of beneficence is he, whose labors con-
tribute to extend the culture and capacity of the human soul — to open
new vistas of knowledge, to awaken dormant impulses and suscepti-
bilities, to enlarge the sphere of study and action, to strengthen faith.
Your generous exertions in this field, have already found a reward in
the applause of good men, and in the consciousness of doing good, to
which my mite can add nothing."
" From grave to gay".
G. W. B. TO Miss Caroline May. " Saratoga Springs, Aug. 3.
My dear child : I write to you because you sent me such a nice letter,
on the first, which I received this morning, and because I wish to talk
music.
I have heard Ole Bull ; my ear is now vibrating witli the most atten-
uated, sweetest, softest note it ever heard ; his last this evening. He is
about six feet one or two inches high, and well made, his head good
though rather low, but long, and particularly square or rectangular at
the sides. He wears his hair very plain and no moustache. His face
is not handsome but honest, and at times intense. His music dis-
appointed me. Ever since he came here I have been accumulating
expectation, and as that has been for months, it was very high. I am
disappointed. He has exceeded my highest imagination. No trick, no
playing on one string, no convulsive eflforts, but clear, perfect tone.
OLE BULL. 185
steady boAving, and a perfect mastery of all his instruments. His
opening piece was in three parts ; a sweet, subdued allegro, then a very
pure adagio, and then a graceful pastoral ; in the first, he played at one
time a complete trio with the bow, each part distinctly marked, and tlie
harmony admirable and somewhat complicated ; in the second he had a
pizzicato passage beyond any thing I could ever dream of; it was better,
yes, better than any harp, and while this was going on Avith his finger,
his bow was busy with delicious, steady accompaniment to the staccato
movement. The last part was distinguished by a passage so like a
piccolo, that no piccolo was ever so good. His next piece was his
Carnival of Venice. His imitations were of Punch and Judy in their
box ; you could almost hear the words. Then a lady sang who was very
frightened, you could hear her gasping for breath; then a bird sang;
any canary would have broken its heart with envy to hear itself out-
warbled, and all this on the theme of " O come to me when daylight
sets." After this he played a mother's prayer; slow, sweet, solemn,
and reverent, than tender, pleading, earnest — then anxious, dep-
recatory, and then by chromatic crescendo, shivering with importunate
supplication, until the mother's heart was poured out, and peace filled
it, and she hushed herself to repose. His last piece on the bill was a
warlike Polacca, various in character, and bringing all his powers in
play, the last twenty bars of rich, steady bowing the very best of the
evening, and beyond conception good. An encore brought him out
again, when he played Hail Columbia and Yankee Doodle, but not as
astonishingly as Max Bohrer."
We give here another letter on the same subject, to the
same young music-loving friend.
"Philadelphia, Nov. 11.
My Dear Caro : (Is it the 11?) (Monday it is.) I should have
written before, but have been sick in bed with a cold, not aple to preach
any yesterday, and only once the Sunday previous and Mrs. B. has been
and is still (for I am better,) worse than I, Avitli the same influenza.
So it is when you are not here.
*' Tliere's iiae luck about the Jiouse" when Caro's in New York.
I thank you for your kinkness in writing, your letters are always wel-
186 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
come for your sake and their own. Let me see what I can tell you in
return.
We can get no organist to suit us : M. L. has turned out an astonish-
ing genius, and we think of trusting to him, at least till we can find one
really excellent. Maggie S. and I went some time since to hear an Eng-
lishman (and I think a Jew), Henry Philips, sing Handel, and liked
him very well. He told us, by the way, that Catalani and Malibran and
Paganini were of Jewish blood. I knew Rossini, Meyerbeer, Mendels-
sohn, Braham &c., were, but never thought the three names above could
be.
* Apropos des bottes ', as our friend Dr. B. says, talking of Paganini
puts me in mind of what happened last Monday to Mrs. B., at about one
o'clock. In came Mr. Scherr and, and, and, — Ole Bull — and, and,
and, his violin ! ! I had said to Mr. Scherr, a day or two before, that Mrs.
B. would be so happy if she could hear Ole Bull, when he said he would
ask him, and on Saturday he sent me word that he would come on Mon-
day at noon; and (being told to ask nobody) Mrs. E. came over to
be the dowager, and Maggie came to be the young lady, and good Mr.
Nevius, the missionary, happened to be here, and Ole Bull after chatting
awhile with Mrs. B. , who satin her wheeled chair to prove that she was
an invalid, opened the violin case, and said that his ' effects' were cal-
culated for a greater distance than he could have in Mrs. B's little par-
lor, and so, to Annie's utter consternation, he went into the back room,
which, like Richard III., was but half made up. He stood before the
wardrobe, the doors open between the rooms, and played — first the fa-
mous Melancolie, with the tremolo passage, and then an air or two varied
in the most exquisite style ; then we all thanked him, Mrs. B. with tears
in her eyes ( I told her to cry if she could). Then he began again and
played 'Auld Robin Gray;' you could tell the very place where her
father ' broke his arm,' and where * we tore ourselves away '. From this
he passed on to an air of Rossini, and then went into the best parts of
the 'Carnival of Venice.' I have heard him play three times in public,
but never better than here. Now think, my little lady, what you miss-
ed by not being here. Maggie sang ' Solitario, ' and then he promised
Mrs. B. to come in the evening and play 'The Mother's Prayer',
which needs a piano accompaniment, so please to come and play it.
Annie thought Bull was well enough, but that Miss S. was better
than all the fiddles (fiddles was the word) in the world ! ! !
MUSICAL CORIlESrONDEXCE. 187
I told her that Bull was tho how ideal of music — but she did not take.
'Dear o me, ' I have filled my sheet with Ole Bull, which I did not
mean to have done.
I am very glad Dempster was grateful enough to you for the trouble
you took, to go up and sing for you. I should like to have his airs to
my songs.
Here is a letter all about music, as if I thought of nothing else; but
somehow music and Caro always go together in my thoughts. Caro and
caro lling.
My best regards (Mrs. B. is asleep) to all your kind family, and be-
lieve me as ever, my dear child,
Your affectionate friend,
George W. Bethune."
W. R. Dempster to G. W. B. *' Odoher 8, 1844.
Rev. and Dear Sir : I received your valuable and agreeable corres-
pondence on my arrival home, and ought to have acknowledged the favor
before this time, but Iwas desirous first to be able to give you some account
of my progress. I am now extremely happy in being able to do so, sofar
satisfactorily. The four songs which you sent are all beautiful. I liavc
set two of them. ' I hae a cup,' I have sung before the public, and
it has made quite a sensation, it is constantly encored. I think I have
been more than usually successful in giving it an air. Mr. Lewis Gay-
lord Clark says it is a perfect gem, and wishes to publish it in the Knick-
erbocker. I told him I was not at liberty to use your name with it, but
tliat 1 would furnish him with a copy. The other one I have sot begins
♦ I know not if thou'rt beautiful, ' which to my thinking is a beautiful
song, but not so effective as the other, although I have not yet sung it in
public.
Upon reflection I feel a little delicacy in resetting the first one, as the
former composer may think it invidious in me to do so, but we shall see.
I may try my hand on it if I do not publish it.
The other one about the ' gloaming ' which you have been kind enough
to write expressly for me, is truly beautiful, and I wish to take my happi-
est moods and greatest pains to make it shine out.
I know it will be pleasing to you to hear that I have been so success-
ful thus far. I am truly delighted with the ' cup o' gude red wine, ' and
hope to let you judge of its flavor as soon as I come to Philadelphia. "
188 MEi».:OIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
In November of this year f 1844) another membership was
added to his already long list. He was elected by the His-
torical Society of Pennsylvania, and having been invited
soon afterward to a public dinner by the New York Histori-
cal Society, made an extempore speech at that banquet. He
had contemplated one of a different character ; but finding
that the tone of the meeting was not what he had expected,
he, with native versatility, changed his line and disap-
pointed the Manhattan audience of the racy references to
the original Dutch colony of New York, and the dear old
Knickerbockers, which they had naturally looked for. The
meeting took altogether too much of a Plymouth Eock,
Mayflower, Pilgrim Father tone to suit New Yorkers, and
Hendrick Hudson was cruelly ignored. The opinion gain-
ed head that this was a New England festival, and to correct
tliis a copy of Dr. Bethune's intended speech was requested
for publication.
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. " Jan. 1, 1845.
One of those many tilings wliich w-ill occur just at the moment you
would rather they would not, prevented this being on your table this
morning, about the same time that I received your most affectionate and
gratifying letter. Still, though you may not hear it until the 2nd, it
is in the morning of the 1st day of the New Year, that I call upon God
to bless my dear mother, and thank Him for having made me her son.
May His angel, the covenant one, be near you to sustain, comfort, and
direct the steps of your age as He has been your guardian and guide
from your youth up.
As I grow older and see more of mankind, I can better appreciate the
restraining and converting influence of religion, while I cherish more
fondly the few whose affection and piety have rendered them dear and
useful to me. You, my mother, have been to me more than a mother
only, you have been my teacher, my counsellor, my considerate friend.
I do not know whether I ever made an allusion to it before, though it is
likely I have, the association being strong in my mind ; but there is an
TO HIS MOTHER. 189
expression of Cicero's, in reference to Tiberius Gracchus, that has al-
ways seemed to me as peculiarly applicable to myself, and true of me
in a far liigher sense than of him. ' He was the oiFspring,' says Cicero,
* not more of her womb than of her soul, and nourished by her instruc-
tion as much as by her bosom.' I give a free translation, but the
thought. I am persuaded that I owe you for that which makes the life I
derived from you, under God, most valuable, and there is not a thouglit
that I give to you, but makes me more grateful, and you more dear.
This is the honest outpouring of my heart, dear mother, an ex-
pression, which you must allow me, once a year, of my true feelings.
Would that I were near you, with the opportunity to show by acts, what
now only words must show, how much I consider my life to belong to
yon, and how much my happiness is wrapped up in yours.
I am not yet well, having a very severe cold, which I cannot succeed
in shaking off ; but have been busy at tliis busy season. Our Christmas
passed off very well, the children singing my hymn and tune. We
had a small, but very gratifying addition to our communion on Sunday,
four on confession, and the same by letter ; few, but good people."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. ' " Phila., March 22, 1845.
My Dear Mother : You might have supposed that my first wish on
the morning of my birthday, was to have written to you, as in other cir-
cumstances it would have been my first duty; but it has rarely happened
in all my pastoral life, that so much engrossing and exciting engagement,
has been crowded into one day. I was, between 10 a.m., and 7 p.m., at
three death-beds ; two of the persons, it is true, still survive, but with no
possibility of recovery. They are dying, and have been for a week. A
visit to another in very deep and peculiar aflSiction, added to my trials,
so that I had not a moment to write, or if I had, not the heart.
Yet I did not forget you, my mother ; but remembered you where I
loved best to remember those I loved best, and loved best to be remem-
bered. My days are fast fleeting. I feel that I am no longer young ;
that my step is now down the hill. For several years past, death and eter-
nity have been growing more familiar to me ; before, they were rather
matters of faith, now they have a real, almost sensible presence. It is
well it is so, so that our estimate of life be honest, not sickly, and our
thought of the future hopeful, not gloomy.
I am rejoiced that your anxiety about the Orphan Asylum is relieved.
190 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE. D. D.
God may have already sent liis angels (for I believe that all Provi-
dence is in the hands of angels) to bring you comfort. I wish that I
had more to comfort me. My communion is drawing nigh, and, as yet, I
know of but one person who is coming forward on confession."
With all the success that had crowned his efforts, and
the general applause awarded him by the great and the
good, Dr. Bethune had the modesty that graces the true
scholar. Of his famous sermon before the Foreign Evan-
gelical Society, he writes, ''that it does not suit him ; he
took too much pains with it. But possibly it may read
better than it sounded.'' His mother has no regret over
this feature, but replies, " You always say your sermons
are not good, I am not afraid of you now.'' But if he
fails, it is not from any lack of due diligence on his part.
" I am now in my study laying out work for many weeks
to come. Work is a blessed thing for us mortals, I am
sure that nothing, except grace, does me more good."
We have reached the year 1845 in our track of Dr. Be-
thune's life and sentiments ; but eighteen years still intervene
between this point and the day of his lamented death. We
must hasten on and shall find it convenient to dv/ell less
particularly than before upon the periods of quiet residence
in the same place, and pay more attention to his changes of
life, their causes and their consequences. On the 6th Jul^^
1845 was pronounced the '' Discourse on the duty of a Pa-
triot " with some allusions to the life and death of Andrew
Jackson. This panegyric was a labor of enthusiasm ; Jack-
son being a hero, and a hero of the right sort. Bethune was
just the man to appreciate and praise with a will him, who,
'• in the darkest hour of our country's history, when a narrow
sectionalism counterfeited the color of patriotic zeal, and
discord shook her Gorgon locks, and men shuddered as they
ORATION AT YALE COLLEGE. 191
saw, yawniug wide in the midst of our confederacy, a gulf,
which threatened to demand the devotion of many a life be-
fore it would close again, sublimely proclaimed over the
land that doctrine sacred as the name of Washington, ' The
Union must be preserved ! ' and the storm died away with
impotent mutterings.'' This effort was published, and well
received ; the same may be said in a still greater degree of
the '' Plea for Study, '^ delivered August 19, before the liter-
ary societies of Yale College. This plea for study is also
a plea for the regimen which shall best fit man for study, a
plea for exercise and fresh air, and fishing and genial society,
and moderation in eating and drinking. The lecturer states
facts that every one knows, that he knows are known to all ;
but he states them that he may urge upon his hearers the
practice in accordance with them. He instances himself, a
man with a constitution better adapted to follow the plough,
or to sling a sledge and yet a close student, an excessive
student, and worst of all a night student, yet he feels no in-
convenience from it, solely, he believes, because he follows
a light, regular, but not whimsically abstemious diet.
'' I am happy", writes Hon. Charles Sumner, ''that the
master key and talisman of knowledge and scholarship is
commended so persuasively as it has been by you. No per-
son, whose soul is not of the lowest potter's cla}^, can read
what you have said without confessing new impulses to
learning and to those good habits which promote it. ''
" I like you, Bethune," writes Dr. G-. W. Blagden, Dec.
11. "I hope the Lord will bless you. It does me good to
see a frank whole-hearted minister of the Gospel now-a-days.
Sometimes I have thought that I would dare to say to you
that, in your really generous-hearted honest use of the creat-
ures of God, particularly the weed and the thing that forms
11)2 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
a good alliteration with it, you might go a little too far, but
then again, I really like your independence so much that I
doubt whether it be best. And yet you see I have done it.
All I want to say is remember our ' beloved brother Paul's '
doctrine of expediency, and love me as one who at this mo-
ment prays God to bless you, and make you unceasingly
useful every day and year you live. I have inflicted quite a
letter on you, but retaliate as soon and as long as you can.''
Prof. Felton to G. W. B. " Cambridge, Oct. 10, 1845.
My Dear Sir: I received a copy ofyour Yale Discourse yesterday,
just as I was getting into the omnibus, I ran over it as well as I could
then, but this morning I have read it carefully through, and I cannot help
writing you immediately to say how well I ha^e been pleased by the man-
ner and the matter of it. In particular I say a hearty amen to your views
cf water exercise, and Political Economy. You might, in my opinion
have substituted on page 36 ' no instances ' for ' very few.' I have known
a great many cases of young men, and old men, who have pretended that
they were injured in health by ' hard study,' and have been sympatliised
with accordingly, but I never knew a single person who might not have
done, without harming his health, a great deal more literary v/ork by the
application of common sense and cold water. I once had a fancy of
that sort myself, but a little reflection convinced me that it was all a
humbug. My Greek studies taught me that bathing and gymnastics were
nearly as essential as languages and mathematics, and I devised with
forethought and deliberation, a system of shower-bathing and dumb-
bells, which changed me in a few weeks from a ' vertiginous ' weak-
ling unfit for anything, to a sturdy fellow, fitted, if need were, ' to sling a
sledge or follow a plough. ' I reverence the dumb-bells and the shower-
bath, and were I a Pagan some allegorical rei^resentation of these should
soon find a place in my Pantheon. I do not quite agree with you about
animal food. My own experience teaches me that I am better with a
moderate allowance in the morning as well as at noon. I can work bet-
ter through the day with such a distribution of the flesh pots.
The system I mention I have now continued nearly ten years, and
perhaps you remember enough of my outward man to know that I have
LETTER OF G. S. HILLARD. 193
not, any more than you, those lanthorn jaws, cadaverous sides, stooping
shoulders, that narrow chest and ghostly complexion which have been
considered indispensable requisites to the American literary character.
Your discourse cannot fail to do good. They need such doctrine at
Yale as much as anywhere. They are too stiff, solemn, and dyspeptic.
A friend of mine returning thence a short time ago, asserted as of his
positive knowledge, that it was a common custom there, to take every
morning a strong mixture of ramrods. How can they be cheerful with
such a habit as that ?
Excuse this nonsense. I may urge in extenuation the authority of
one whom you will admit to be worthy of rehance.
' Quid vetat ridentem dicere verum ? '
Thanking you for your kind attention, I am Dear Sir,
With high regard your friend,
C. C. Felton.
Geo. S. Hillard to G. W. B. "Boston, Oct. 13, 1845.
Mr Dear Bethune : I have read with great pleasure your oration
delivered at New Haven. It strikes me as one of the best things you
have ever done ; it is vigorous, learned, original, and true. It contains
the doctrines of the true church, upon the great subject of ' study ' that
' vehemens et assidua animi applicatio' as Cicero so well defines it ; only
I don't know about angling. The poor fish that you pull out of the
water with a hook in his gullet, might well ask if the Lord had made
him a mere medicine to restore a dyspeptic scholar, and had not given
him a pleasant life of his own in the silver streams. If the fish were
not alive, angling would be delectable, but after reading Wordsworth's
' Hart-leap Well ' I pause over the rod as well as the gun, in spite of
dear old Izaak. But your counsels and your admonitions will do the
boys good. As your discourse was lying on my table, a friend came
in whose hobby is political economy, and he casually opened it on pago
21 and read your eulogium on his favorite science with sparkling eyes,
and sat down and copied the sentence and made a memorandum of the
discourse with warm expressions of admiration, and a purpose of sending
for it. "
There is a fact about this very successful address at New-
Haven which it may be well to record for the benefit of liter-
13
194 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
ary institutions. The Doctor felt his reception to be very
chilly, almost ice-cold ; there was a strange lack of interest
in the orator of the day. He had to find his own way about
town and when he came to the College Assembly, it presented
one of the blackest looking audiences to be imagined. There
was no relief in the back-ground, nothing but an array of
sombre black coats, and these not easily to be moved from
their quiet decorum. The President received him with a
dignified bow, but not a word of sympathy consoled the sen-
sitive heart of the speaker. He returned to his hotel, dis-
couraged, and inquired of the clerk at what hour the first
train in the morning left the city. An early hour being men-
tioned, he said, '' Iwish to leave at thattime,'^ and speedily
departed from the land of steady habits without having re-
ceived the most favorable impression of Yankee hospitality.
During one of those years he was suddenly called upon
to proceed to Washington, in reference to his favorite cause
of Colonization. A Sunday at the Capital was quite sure to
make demands on the popular preacher, and he caught up a
few manuscript sermons and put them in his carpet-bag.
Invited to preach in two churches, he found that only one
of these sermons pleased him, which he reserved for the
evening. In the morning he gave a very simple and un-
pretending discourse, on the " little child that our Lord set
before his disciples as a pattern". The minister of this
church, meeting him the next day, complained, saying, " I
hear that last night you thundered and lightened in the
Methodist church round the corner, but you did not take
much trouble for us." The Doctor, having a modest opinion
of his efforts, could make no defence ; but some months
later, received, in an incidental way, a most agreeable com-
pliment from a high quarter. A friend of his, conversing
SPEECHES AND LECTURES. 195
with Justice McLean, of the Supreme Court of the United
States, said to him, " Since all the leading ministers of the
country come here, you must have great privileges in the
preaching line at Washington.'' "Not so much as you
imagine, they all come with their grand discourses and
high-flown elocution, but we have little of the simple gos-
pel that edifies. There was, however, a man named Be-
thune, from Philadelphia, who pleased and profited me very
much ; he is a preacher of some distinction, but he took for
his text, ' a little child,' and then he sought to bring all of
us statesmen, judges and counsellors, to the position of
little children before the Saviour; now that was a sermon
to do a man's heart good."
Let preachers going to Washington gather wisdom.
Manifold engagements pressed upon him, and yet he found
time for the labors of authorship.
He really did dispatch a large amount of work. Besides
the constant preparations necessary for a city pulpit, and
care for the sick, he was engaged in extensive correspon-
dence with home and foreign parts. There is a record of
as many as forty-five letters Avritten on a single day. Then
he was expected to speak on important public occasions ;
he was President of the Pennsylvania Seamen's Friend's So-
ciety ; a leading oflScer in the Colonization Society ; neither
did he neglect his readings of the Greek and Latin Classics;
he told a friend " that, in the course of the winter, he had
tead through the plays of Euripides," which this friend
being a ripe scholar, thought by itself a suflScient task for
the season. Racy lectures must occasionally be produced ;
he was a frequent contributor to Magazines and Annuals,
yet, in addition to all, he was able to get several volumes
through the press. The first was a book of " Sermons " ;
196 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
" he yields to the wishes of some friends '' in this publica-
tion. " The selection has been made out of the discourses
preached by the author from his own pulpit, with some re-
gard to variety, but principally, to the practical characters
of their subjects." He adds with modesty, "The prospect
of their being widely read, when there are so many better
books, is small ; yet the attempt to serve the cause of our
beloved Master is pleasant, and if he smiles upon it, it will
be successful, not in proportion of our talent, but of his
grace. '^ Mr. Wm. H. Prescott writes, " One does not look
into a volume of sermons for novelties, yet you put your read-
ers on trains of thoughts that are not opened every day.
I have not read any thing from the pulpit for a long time
that has pleased me so much, or which I think more calcu-
lated to benefit the hearers.'' Perhaps a more substantial
compliment was given by the public in its rapid sale.
"'You will be pleased," he writes to his mother, "to hear
that my book of sermons does so well. There must be an-
other edition by September at farthest. My ' Fruit of the
Spirit ' sells steadily and well. My publishers say that
they are now sure of its being a stock book ; which means
a book for which there will always be a good demand."
In quick succession appears, " Early Lost, Early Saved."
"A childless man himself," says Dr. Taylor, " it is some-
what remarkable, that in this little volume he has left one
of the sweetest books of consolation for bereaved parents,
founded upon an argument for the salvation of infants,
which is at the same time a powerful vindication of that
grand old system of doctrinal truth, taught by the Reformed
Churches, which, as he declared his conviction, has been so
often foully accused of consigning departed infants to a
miserable eternity ; but which ' affords the only satisfactory
COMMISSIONER TO THE MINT. W}
hope of their salvation,' which is by free and sovereign
grace in Christ/' Then followed " The History of a Peni-
tent ; a Guide for the Inquiring, in a Commentary on the
One Hundred and Thirtieth Psalm." This was also the re-
sult, first, of pulpit exposition, and then of careful prepa-
ration for the press, and I need only add that it is admirably
adapted to its great design."
These substantial volumes, while they increased the rep-
utation of the author, also yielded financial gain. He made
more money from them than from anything he did in the
way of book making. By way of variety, we may relate
that he was appointed Commissioner of the U. S. Mint,
one of three to attend the annual assay and examination
of the afiairs of that branch of the public service ; he ac-
cepted, and says he is " prepared not to be surprised at the
offer of a large salary as special ambassador to the Universi-
ty of Timbuctoo." This important Mint function he after-
wards referred to on a great public occasion. '•' I once,"
he says, "held an ofiice under the general government, and
I was offered another. The other I did not like, the first I
did. It kept me five hours, and I was allowed my expenses
as emolument, but as there was no omnibus riding in that
direction, I did not get sixpence." On a visit to Boston,
he quite startled the audience by a criticism on their book
of praise. In giving out the Hymn, beginning,
" There is a fountain filled with blood "
he found that the last verse had been altered and read
thus :
"And when this feeble stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave,
Then in a nobler sweeter song,
I'll sing thy power to save."
198 MExMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
'^ I should like to know," he sternly said, " who has had
the presumption to alter Cowper's Hymn ; the choir will
please sing the hymn as the poet wrote it."
About the close of 1846, he received from President
Polk the appointment of Chaplain, to the Military Academy
at West Point, and there is much proof of his popularity at
the White House. The office, although possessing many
advantages, could not seduce him from his pastoral work.
A letter from Littell, of the " Living Age," embodies a very
neat compliment to Dr. Bethune, calling his letters a " brook
by the way. I wish you would write to me at any time
when you see any thing which you would especially like to
see in the Living Age : I wish to put myself into magnetic
communication with as much intellect and heart as I can,
for the good of the public. I hope this plea may get me a
line from you now and then."
ART OF ANGLING. 199
CHAPTER VIII.
ART OF ANGLING FOREST LIFE.
In the year 1846, tlie new edition of Izaak Walton's Com-
plete Angler, appeared with the Instructions of Cotton, and,
as says the preface, " with copious notes, for the most part
original ; a bibliographical preface giving an account of
fishing and fishing books, from the earliest antiquity to the
time of Walton, and a notice of Cotton and his writings, to
which he added an appendix, including illustrative ballads,
music, papers on American fishing, and the most complete
catalogue of books on angling ever printed."
"For such an undertaking," writes Dr. Dunglison, ''no
one could have been better qualified and prepared. Fond
of the sport to enthusiasm, perfectly acquainted with his
authors, and possessed of an admirable piscatorial library,
diligently accumulated at considerable expense,* he brought
to the subject an amount of familiar knowledge, and oppor-
tunities for research, possessed b}^ few, if by any, in this
country. The references, with rare exceptions, were veri-
fied by his own examination, whilst for the literary annota-
tions he held himself responsible. Many of these, espec-
ially of a philological character, were the subjects of
occasional playful, but delightful and profitable correspond-
* The number of works that he had collected on fishing and kindred topics,
composed about seven hundred volumes, and was probably the most perfect collec-
tion of the kind ia the world.
200 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
ence between the writer of this notice and himself, and the
whole work affords abundant evidence of rare learning, and
ample practical knowledge/'
That much time and pains must have been given to the
above work is evident, and when it was objected that this
occupation interfered with the duties of his sacred office,
the doctor i-eplied that he had accomplished it at odd
seasons, while other people would have been looking out
of their windows. The following bit of erudition is a
specimen of the labor expended on his references.
" New York, 3Iarch 19, 1847.
Rev. and dear Sir : The passage of Aristotle to which you refer,
does not occur in any part of his extant writings. Heyne alludes to
it in his note on Iliad, xxiv, 81., but merely mentions Plutarch as his au-
thority. If Heyne could not find it, we may be ■^'^ry sure that it has
not come down to us. Ileyne's words are as follows : ' Melior inter-
pretatio de cornu bovino Aristoteli deberi discimus ex Plutarcho, de
Sollert. Animal, p. 976, ubi ejus auctoritate refellit acceptionem de
pilis bovinis e quibus hamum contextum esse putarint alii.'
The passage of Plutarch occurs in the 24:th chapter of the treatise de
Sollert. Animal., (vol. iv. part ii , p. 961, seq. of Wyttenbach's edition of
the Moralia ; and vol. x., p. 65, seq, of Reiske's edition of the entire works)
and in it, after giving the opinion of some, that Kspa^ in the passage of
Homer, means rpixa, and that the reference is to hair line, he quotes the
more correct explanation of Aristotle. According to the old Stagyrite,
a small horn (^Kepdnov) was put around the line just above the hook, to
prevent the fish from biting it off. This solves the mystery. Plutarch's
words are as follows: ' ApioTOrEA/jj 6i cpricn iir)6lv h tovtois XeyeaS-ai au<pdv i)
nepiTTOV, dXXa rw ovri KspaTiuv wepiTi^ea^ai npo tov dyKicTpov irefti Trjv bpfiidi/, tircna
TTpoi dWo tpxoiievoi 6:ea^L0V(xi.
It appears to me that Heyne has made a slip in his note, and that for
^ hamum' he ought to have written ^ funicidum,' for the Greek of Plu-
tarch is, ^pi^lv oiovrai rrpos rag bpp.iag %p?jio-Sai ruvi TraXaiovg. This, however,
does not affect the main point.
With many thanks for your kind opinion of your old friend, anl for
Walton's complete angler. 201
your allowing me to claim some little part of the early training of one
as eminent as yourself,
I remain, very truly, &c,,
Chas. Aktuon.
Rev. Dr. Bbthune, Philadelphia."
For the use that is made of this morsel of scholarship, see
the Bibliograjjhical preface to the Complete Angler, p. ix.
On the same subject Dr. Bethune wrote to Charles
Lanman Esq., Librarian at Washington ;
"The truth is, I am very modest as an angler, but have exerted
myself to the utmost in the literary illustration of our father's delightful
book. As I wrote Mr. Duyckinck, it is impossible to make a fishing-
hook, especially an American fishing-book, of Walton. Permit me to
say, that, though I am far from being ashamed of the gentle art, I do
not wish to have my name formally associated with the book, as it .will
not appear on the title page, and whatever comments are made on the
American edition, (particularly as to my part of it) I should like them
confined to the literary character. You will understand my reason for
this. My library is very good, piscatorially the best in the country,
and my notes have been accumulating for years."
This edition of Walton is conceded in England, as well
as in this country, to be the best one issued.
The sport of angling was a great aid to him in getting
through his year's work. He always had an amusement to
turn to ; the course of his thoughts was completely changed,
the mind relaxed, and the body restrung. We can give the
testimony of eye-witnesses to the intense bodily and spirit-
ual enjoyment, which the return of the fishing season
always provided for him. We say spiritual, for who does
not know how a pleasant book is enhanced by green fields
and summer floods ; and our angler appears to have had
a small library in his head. We quote the words of his
companion, Rev. Joshua Cooke.
202 3IEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
" Dr. Bethune was an ardent lover of Nature.
He was not a worshipper of Nature. He had none of that regard for
it which some of our day seem disposed to nurse up into idolatry; at
least, into a feeling that if Nature be not divine, they know nothing
more so. Of that religion which, to the call of a sinning man for bread
of the soul, would offer Nature, give him a stone, our honored friend
had not an element.
But Nature, as the beautiful and glorious handiwork of One whom he
loved better than Nature; and as created, preserved, multiplied into
her manifold forms, expressly for the honor of His name, in tlie
happiness of His creatures : Nature, as such, I have never seen more
fervently loved, and more eagerly resorted to, than by Dr. Bethune.
It was not as her processes are developed under human training that
he sought her, but as she exists in the forms and sounds of the perfect
wilderness. And he sought them there in yearly pilgrimages, far from
the haunts of men ; associating with his enjoyment of wood and stream
that of his favorite recreation, angling. There, his tent pitched, his
camp-fire kindled ; his implements of recreation around liim ; and
what was more than all to him, with genial companions, he would
look forth on wood, and stream, and lake, with a happiness known
only to the lover of Nature ; and which, in him, none will ever forget
who had the happiness of seeing him there. And, as he felt deeply, so
he would speak eloquently of the delightful calm, the unbroken repose;
the freshness of all, as if just from the divine hand; and of the won-
drous change in all this, from the excitements and conventionalities of
life among men. lie did not dislike men ; he did not dislike society.
On the contrary, he had a peculiar interest in being among those to
whom he could listen with pleasure, and by whom he could be himself
heard. And it was the one desire of his life to preach the gospel.
This, also, made the concourse of men welcome to him, for he could
discharge his office, and hope to save some.
But, after months of duty, in its routine ; and, especially, if there
had been trial of feeling, or controversy, he repaired to the stream and
forest as a refuge and rest from excitement ; and as one who found in
their quiet, gentle, changeless beauty, a balm. He has embodied this
feeling in a few of his own beautiful lines, now lying by me.
POEM. 203
• Oh, for the rush of our darling stream, .
With its strips of virgin meadow ;
For the morning beam, and the evening gleam,
Through the deep forest shadow !
For our dovelike tent, with white wings bent,
To shield us from the weather.
Where we make our bed, of hemlock spread.
And sleep in peace together.
Oh, for the pure and sinless wild,
Far from the city's pother.
Where the spirit mild of Nature's child.
On the breast of his holy mother,
In the silence sweet, may hear the beat
Of her loving heart and tender ;
Nor wish to change the greenwood range
For worldly pomp and splendor !
Oh, for the laugh of the merry loon !
For the chant of the fearless thrushes 1
Who pipe their tune to sun and moon.
In clear and liquid gushes !
For the roar of floods, and the echoing woods,
And the whisperings, above us.
Of the twilight breeze, thro' the trembling trees —
Like words of those that love us ! '
To write such lines, one must not only have looked upon such scenes,
but have looked with the most hearty appreciation, and the most entire
enjoyment. His feelings were so much in unison with everything
around him, that he counted himself but as a part of the scene, or as a
child visiting his mother. How beautifully has he expressed this in the
second of the above stanzas ! All, who have spent nights in the wilder-
ness, 'making their bed of hemlock spread,' will remember how, in the
stillness so weird and solemn, one's own pulsation becomes, not only to
fancy, but almost to conviction, the throbbing of the earth he lies on.
And so,
204 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
' The spirit mild of nature's child,
On the breast of his holy mother,
In the silence sweet, may hear the beat
Of lier loving heart and tender.*
His unconsciously delicate sense and discrimination were very
apparent in his relish for line poetry. It led him not only to produce
much himself that was fine, but still more to enjoy the productions of
or,hers, and to love the very man for the thing he had produced. When
he met with a piece where true poetical conception was expressed in
becoming form and harmony, it was, with him, as when a diver finds a
pearl. Vv^ith what enthusiasm and happy rendering, would he repeat
such pieces as the following, from the Englishman Stoddart :
'Oh, waken winds, waken, the waters are still ;
And the sunhght, in silence, reclines on the hill ;
And the angler is waiting beside the green springs,
For the low, welcome sound of your wandering wings.
His rod lies beside him ; his tackle's unfreed ;
And his withe- woven pannier is flung on the mead ;
And he looks on the lake, through its fane of green trees.
And sighs for the curl of the soft southern breeze.
Calm-bound is the form of the water-bird there ;
And the spear of the rush stands erect in the air ;
And the dragon-fly roams o'er the lily beds gay,
Where basks the bold pike in the sun-smitten bay.
Oh, waken, winds, waken, wherever asleep !
On the cloud, in the mountain, or down in the deep !
The angler is waiting beside the green springs
For the low, whispering sound of your wandering wings.'
I think I see him now, as seated under the shade of our pleasant
woodland home, and looking out on the little lake, so in keeping with the
above piece, he would dwell on its fine alliteration and musical flow ;
but still more, on its exquisite pencilling of natural features. * Don't
you see' , he would say, ' the impatience of the man as he looks at the
LOVE OF NATURE. 205
glare of the sun, and the mirror-like surface, and knows that it would
he as useless to make a cast of his fly before the eagle-eyed trout,
under these conditions, as to make it into the woods behind him. And
tben, tlie water bird, the loon, or the diver, far out on the water ; really
asleep, but seemingly unable to stir till wind or wave should move ;
calm-hoiind. And the rush' ; and here his finger, graceful and flexible
as the rush itself, would shoot upward ; ' the rush, the most pliant and
yielding of all things, now upright as the bole of the pine, so still is the
air. And the sun-smitten bay; the heat pouring down as a molten
substance, and holding the helpless waters waveless as under pressure
of a burden ! '
He was equally sensitive to the devotional and the sublime. We had
spent a Sabbath evening, four of us, in one of the tents, from dusk till
near midnight, in delightful conversation on religion, and religious ex-
perience, when one of the party, alluding to the day, asked the doctor,
if he remembered the fine lines of Spenser ;
' Then 'gan I think on that which Nature said
Of that same time when no more change shall be ;
But stedfast rest of all things, firmly fixed
Upon the pillours of Eternitie ;
For all that moveth doth in change delight ;
But thenceforth all shall rest eternally
With Him, that is the God of Sabbaoth hight.
Of that great Sabbaoth, God, grant me that
Sabbath's sight.'
The Doctor was visibly afiected. He arose, and said, ' Where did
you find those lines ? ' 'In the opening of the unfinished Canto of the
Eaerie Queen.' ' Beautiful, beautiful,' said he ; * it is strange I never
met with them ! ' And he retired to his own tent, evidently filled, ear
and heart, with the majestic numbers and sublime prayer of the poet.
And so he would pass, to and fro, among those beautiful little lakes
of Canada, and up and down the clear, pebbly, forest-shaded brooks of
Maine, his recreation, his exercise, and his few chosen friends of like
mind in these things, his companions. So deep was his regard for those
remote and untainted homes in the wilderness, that one might almost
feel that their regard was responsive ; and that it would hardly be fancy
206 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
to apply to him, in death, the lines he so thrillingly applied in public to
our great painter of Nature, Cooper :
' Call it not vain : — they do not err.
Who say, that when the Poet dies.
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper,
And celebrates his obsequies !
Who say, tall cliff and cavern lone
For the departed bard make moan ;
Through his loved groves that breezes sigh,
And oaks, in deeper groan reply ;
And rivers teach their rushing wave
To murmur dirges round his grave.
Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn.
These things inanimate can mourn;
But that the stream, the wood, the gale,
Are vocal with the plaintive wail
Of those, who, else forgotten long,
Lived in the poet's faithful song,
And, with the poet's parting breath,
Whose memory feels a second death,
*****
All mourn the minstrel's harp unstrung
Their name unknown, their praise unsung.'
Certainly I was startled, on revisiting one of those favored spots, after
he had left for home, by the vividness of association which made his
presence there, hardly fanciful ; and which gave to each tree, and shrub,
and even to the ashes of the forsaken camp-fire, the aspect of a sentient
companion.
But all this, with Dr. Bethune, was without the least laying aside of
the proprieties of his calling, whether as minister or as Christian. Rude
boatmen of the St. Lawrence, speak to this day of his Christian interest
and benevolent action on their behalf, when visiting their vicinity ; and,
on the extreme confines of the Canadian wilderness, men tell feelingly
of the tenderness, the simplicity, the earnestness of his prayers. Fre-
quently, he would arise quietly from our little circle about the fire, and
take his way to the depths of the forest. We knew well that he had
gone into solitude for that communion with his Saviour, without which
DISTINGUISHED ANGLERS. 207
no scenes woi*e lovely, and no clay was bright. The escape from social
pressure and conventionality was, with him, no fliglit to lawlessness.
]n the change of earllily scene, he souglit no change in his Redeemer's
presence and fellowship. The God of Nature was the God of Kederap-
tion ; and, a lover of Nature, he made his enjoyment of its scenes and
pleasures, one with his service of that Lord of all, who had bought him
with His own blood."
We have mentioned the "plea for study," and a page
from that vigorous discourse will put on record our minis-
ter's feeling for angling, and his authorities for -believing
in its hygienic efficacy.
"A catalogue of men," he says, "illustrious in every
department of knowledge, who have refreshed themselves
for further useful toil by the 'gentle art,' as its admirers
delight to call it, would be very long ; and those who would
charge them with trifling, perhaps worse, might, with some
modesty reconsider a censure which must include Izaak
Walton, the pious biographer of pious men ; Dryden, Thomp-
son, Wordsworth, and many more among the poets ; Paley,
Wollaston, and Nowell among theologians ; Henry Mac-
kenzie (the man of feeling), and professor Wilson the poet-
scholar and essayist; Sir Humphrey Davy, author of
Salmonia ; Emmerson the geometrician, Rennie the zoologist,
Chantrey the sculptor, and a host of others, who prove
that such a taste is not inconsistent with religion, genius,
industry, or usefulness to mankind. It has been remarked
that they who avail themselves of this exercise moderately,
(for, as one says, Make not a profession of a recreation lest
it should bring a cross wish on the same) and are temperate,
attain generally an unusual age. Henry Jenkins lived to
a hundred and sixty-nine years, and angled when a score
past his century. Walton died upwards of nmety ; Nowell
at ninety-five ; and Mackenzie at eighty-six. Such frequent
208 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
instances of longevity among anglers, says a writer on the
subject, cannot have been from accident or from their
having originally stronger stamina than other mortals.
Their pursuits by the side of running streams whose motion
imparts increased vitality to the air, their exercise regular
without being violent, and that composure of the mind so
necessary to the health of the body to which this amuse-
ment so materially contributes, must all have had an in-
fluence uj)on their physical constitution, the effect of which
is seen in the duration of then- lives."
Mr. Macomber, in the following account, proves that the
apostolic art has its sorrows as well as its joys.
" Dr. Betliune was not one of those who understand the art of econo-
mizing by the profession of a 'rough-and-tumble' suit of clothing,
fitted to sucli excursions ; and, as the judicious charities of his excellent
wife always found use for the half-worn garments of the doctor, and as
he generally purchased the best, the natural result was, that he was a
well-dressed man, and fine broadcloth, and plenty of it, went a fishing
on all occasions when the wearer did. But let not one infer that the
doctor was careful of his dress on such occasions. On the contrary,
his black broadcloth was totally unheeded, and mud and water were
disregarded, where trout was plenty.
On one of these trips, while whipping a fine mountain stream in the
wilds of Pennsylvania, he with a companion had stopped at noon to
lunch, and, while doing so, the doctor discovered ahead, a deep pool
overshadowed with lofty trees and almost shut out from the sun-light,
clear quiet and unvisited, the very spot to make glad the heart of an
angler. He, who was a light eater, (his portly person, and the general
belief to the contrary notwithstanding,) was quickly satisfied, and
leaving his friend to finish his lunch and ' pack up,' he began, tackle in
hand, to approach the pool. With wary and cautious steps he made his
way through the thick underbrush which bordered the stream, until to
his joy he discovered a fallen tree, one end buried in the soft earth, and
the other elevated quite high directly above the quiet pool. To * take
to the tree,' and quietly work his way along to the elevated extremity,
MISHAPS. 209
was but the work of a few moments, for the portly, and now somewhat
excited sportsman. To say truth, he had not had * good luck ' durhig
the morning. His brass-bound joint rod, patent self-winding reel, silk-
laid casting line, and superb ' English hackle,' had been sadly out of place
iu fishing this narrow, swift, and brush-fringed mountain stream, and
he had been fairly beaten at trouting, by his less skilled friend with
plain cut pole, short linen line, and stump-grub. But here was a
chance, a glorious chance, to show his friend the beauties of the science
of angling — the doctor had already commenced his revision of the
works of Izaak "Walton, — and he challenged the attention of his com-
panion to a beautiful ' cast ' over that broad, silent pool. The tree on
which the doctor stood, although large, and covered with bark and moss,
having long been prostrate in its cozy bed, was rotten to its very core,
and, just as he straightened himself for his 'beautiful cast,' it broke
square olf behind him, and doctor, broadcloth, and fishing tackle, fell
ten feet into the pool, up to his neck in the ' still water,' now foaming
with twenty stone weight of clerical humanity. The crash of the log
and the souse of the doctor, brought the startled friend to his assist-
ance, with the exclamation, * Are you hurt ? ' ' No,' replied the im-
mersed doctor, coolly shaking the water from his dripping locks, ' but
I 've frightened every fish out of this creek I ' "
On one occasion, while fishing in lake Champlain, the
Doctor fell from a boat, and a change of apparel became
necessary. Nothing could be found for the emergency but
an English dragoon's scarlet jacket. When the steamer
passed, those who could recognize his lineaments would
have seen his dignified episcopacy ensconced in a glittering
garment better fitted for the Pope of Rome than the staid
habits of a Protestant minister. Here is another story not
altogether destitute of point :
'♦ In the month of August, 1849, the doctor had determined to give
himself a little relaxation from his clerical duties, and in company with
his friend L., an excellent young man, and member of his church, they
set their faces towards the mountains of Pennsylvania, to have a bit of
angling. Arriving at H. they found that Mr. J.I., a resident of H., who
14
210 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
had agreed to accompany them, had not received the Doctor's note
announcing their coming, and had left for New York.
Not wiUing to lose the fine weather, they procured a conveyance, and
although strangers to the roads and streams, found themselves at night,
after a fatiguing day's ride, at the quiet tavern of Elder S., situated in
a romantic gorge of one of the coal mountains of Pennsylvania. The
Elder, an old acquaintance of Mr. M.'s, but entirely unknown to the
Doctor and his friend, was unremitting in his attentions to his guests,
and their creature comforts ; and as they had explained their disappoint-
ment in not meeting Mr. M., who was to have been their guide, he
offered to furnish a vehicle and accompany them the next day to the
trout stream, up the mountain. But the good Elder, once a fast man
himself, had long ago abandoned not only ' poker ' and ' brag,' but also
the * rifle ' and the ' rod,' and his knowledge of the whereabouts of the
best trout holes, was extremely limited. He dragged his guests up
steep mountains and down deep vales ; sometimes Ms grey would get
fairly stuck in a mud hole ; and to extricate the rickety * carryall ' from
the mire, all hands must alight and, up to their knees in water, pull the
old horse and wagon out on to dry land. But Dr. Bethune, whose good
humor and patience never deserted him, was always ready with his
broad shoulder to lift away, and the conveyance was soon under weigh
again. But they caught more ducks than trout, and late at night
brought home more mud than fish. It was one of Dr. Bethune's
peculiarities to travel about on these excursions incog when he could do
so, and as his friend L. had, from the time of their arrival, only desig-
nated him as the * Doctor,' Elder S. had naturally come to the conclusion
that he was some jolly medical man from Philadelphia, but had not the
face fairly to ask his name. He was however delighted with him as a
companion, quickly abbreviated the ' Doctor ' into ' Doc.,' and, often
slapping him on the back, would exclaim, ' That 's it Doc, give us
another lift.'
When the labours and disappointments of day had ended, and clean
water and a good supper (for Mrs. S. was famous for her cookery) had
set all to rights again, the old Elder felt bound to express to his guests
his satisfaction on one point. ' Now,' said he, ' gentlemen, we've had a
hard time to-day, but through all the upsetting, sticking in the mud-
holes, losing our way, and catching no fish, I am much gratified to say,
I haven't heard either of you swear a single word. We have a prayer-
meeting to-night, can't one of you do the singing ? ' "
THE STUDY POliTRAIT. 211
As we write, an excellent likeness of Dr. Bethune looks
down npon us from the wall ; it is a photograph, taken a few
years before his death, under the following circumstances.
He was arranging to start for one of his vacations, and in
expectation of its relief and pleasure, was in one of his
happiest moods, when Dr. Francis Vinton, of New York,
entered his study. The Doctor has been kind enough to re-
late the incident :
" Trinity Church, New York, September 20, 1867.
My Dear Dr. Van Nest : One pleasant morning in the autnmn of
1853, I was ushered upstairs to Dr. Bethune's Library Study. In re-
sponse to my knock at the door, I heard his voice, rather bluffly, bid-
ding the intruder to ' Come in.'
On opening the door, the scene, pictured in the photograph, to wliich
you allude in your letter, presented itself to my eyes.
I stood still, wliile the Doctor, with pen in hand, and surrounded with
his folios, looked up, with an expression, first of annoyance, but melting
into a sweet smile, wherewith he welcomed me.
*A boon, a boon, my lord,' said I, jocosely.
'Come in, come in, take a chair ; I am delighted to see you,' he re-
plied.
'A boon,' I repeated. ' First grant my request.'
* Granted, granted. What is it ? '
' Let us have your photograph for the club, just as I see you now.'
And then he broke out into his cheering laugh at the singular petition,
a laugh that was so hearty, so contagious, that we both indulged in it.
After some coquetting with his reluctance to appear in his study cos-
tume, and the surroundings of books, and creel, and fishing rods, he fell
back on his rash promise and consented ; provided i\\aX the artist should
destroy the negative after printing enough of the photographs to dis-
tribute among the club, and a few other intimates.
The photograph of ' Dr. Bethune in his Study,' had this origin ; and
if the story shall enrich your memoirs, it will gratify me to be associated
in its pages, with that noble man. * We shall ne'er look upon Ms like
again.' Yours faithfully,
Francis Vinton."
212 MJEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
There he sits in his habit as he lived, the learned-looking
cap, gold spectacles, and easy morning gown, the ponder-
ous authority he is in the act of citing on the table before
him, the others whose turn is to come, piled up on the floor ;
" his orthodox pipe,^' leans against the table, the im?
plements of his well-beloved sport adorn the walls, and
the man's very look, at once humorous and serene, greets
us as we turn towards it. We owe many a fervid page,
and many a burst of eloquence, which there was, alas, no
short-hand writer to record, to that same creel and rod,
for they kept his heart young and his body manageable.
The Piseco Trout Club was the name given to a confra-
ternity of gentlemen, whose annual habit it was to repair
to the north of New York, with the full intention of catch-
ing and killing as many trout as they could. Their meet-
ings were genial and jovial ; a " Report '^ was made of the
devastation they had caused each year, and it is fair to con-
clude that much provision was consumed. Without allow-
ing ourselves to be stupefied with amazement at the figures
which represent their success, we may say that the Secre-
tary of this Society was Mr. Alfred Brooks ; the Chaplain,
Dr. Bethune ; the President, Mr. Henry Vail, of Troy ; and
the other individuals of which it was composed exercised
functions either private or oflScial, according to posts they
occupied, or duties they had to perform.
The ^' Reports ^' are before us, very whimsical and non-
sensical ; just such stuff as these noble " boys at play "
might be expected to have got ofi*, at a time when anything
serious would have been out of place. The President has
a song improvised in his honor by the Chaplain, of which
a verse may suffice as specimen.
A MISSION FOUNDED. 213
"And when the clock beneath our belts proclaims the hour to dine,
And we to seek the ' Tree Tops shade,' our busy rods resign,
We love above our smoking board to see his bright face shine,
And hear him smack his lips and say, * how very, very fine,'
Just like the honored President of our Piseco Club."
It was sung to the tune of " The Fine Old English
Gentleman.''
These fishing excursions resulted in something besides
pleasure. " Come ye after me," said our Saviour to certain
who were casting their nets, "and I will make ye to
become fishers of men." And accordingly the church of
the Thousand Islands rose and flourished, and did much
good, because a man whose eyes were always open for a
chance of doing good, went into the neighborhood for his
amusement.
We gratefully make use of the statement of the Rev.
Anson Dubois, D. D., upon this matter, and acknowledge
our inability to improve upon it :
*' You are aware that Dr. Bethune originated a Mission at Alexan-
dria Bay, in the St. Lawrence River. He used to call it his pet child of
the Thousand Islands. He was one day trolling for black bass among
these beautiful Islands, when he said to his oarsman, ' Tommy, where
do you go to church ? ' 'No where,' said he, ' no church to go to.'
' But do none of these people go to church ? ' ' No, we used to have
Methodist preaching sometimes at the Bay, but they seem to have given
us up of late years.'
This excited the Doctors sympathy. He had it published in the dis-
trict school and among the neighbors, that he would preach at the school-
house the next Sabbath, and form a Sabbath school. It was a new
thing, and quite a wonder. The people turned out largely. After the
sermon to the adults, the Doctor gathered the children to the front seats,
and held a Sabbath school, greatly interesting them with his Scripture
stories and remarks. ' Now,' said he, ' my friends, we must have a Sun-
day school here. Who will superintend it? '
214 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
No one volunteered. He then cast Ms eyes around the audience in
that small but crowded house. It rested, after a moment, on the intelli-
gent and energetic countenance of a middle-aged lady. ' Madam,' said
the Doctor, ' will you take charge of this school ? '
The woman tried to excuse herself, but finally consented, and for the
whole season managed the school with great success, although she
made no profession of religion, and was the wife of a tavern-keeper, an
irreligious man.
The Doctor soon after sent a ten-dollar library, and music books to
the school ; and a friend, an enthusiastic old gentleman, in acknowledging
their receipt and use, said, ' If Dr. Bethune could hear these little chil-
dren singing out of their new books, he would think it was the angels in
heaven.' The next season Dr. Bethune sent a missionary, Rev. J. A.
Davenport, to this field, who maintained preaching and Sabbath schools,
sometimes to the number of ten, upon the Islands and adjacent shores,
and was supported for three years by funds, contributed by the Doctor
and his personal friends. That mission, begun in 1846, is still main-
tained, and has been productive of very great good.
The Doctor's intercourse with the less cultivated people in the remote
sections of the country where he so loved to resort during his summer
vacations, was always easy and free, though never approaching vulgar-
ity. He loved especially to devote his Sabbaths to their religious profit,
making it a matter of conscience to preach at least once, and frequently
oftener. He used to tell some good anecdotes of their appreciation of
his services. I will give you one as a specimen. He was at one time
among one of the roughest sections of the lumber regions skirting Lake
Champlain. The little log hut in which he preached was crammed, and
many hardy backwoodsmen sat about the door in the shade. He discoursed
earnestly to attentive hearers. After meeting broke up, some little con-
sultation was had among the men, and one of them came up with the Doc-
tor on his way to his tent. Said he, very respectfully, ' Preacher, we
have made up our minds that we want you to stay here and preach for
us.' 'Well, but,' said the Doctor, 'can you support me here? How
much can you raise?' His friend was not discouraged. They liad
thought of that too. ' Yes Sir,' said he, ' we have made up our minds
to give you one hundred dollars a year, and we'll build you anew church.'
* What ! ' said a bystander who had not been in the council, ' will you
LETTER TO MR. DUBOIS. 215
build a church of logs ? ' * Build a church of logs ! No sir, we'll build
a church of sawed stuff' ! The Doctor had to take the thing seriously,
and show them why he could not come and live there. He sometimes
laughed heartily over his call of a hundred dollars' salary, and a new
church of sawed stuff, though he declared he never felt himself more
highly complimented in his life."
Mr. Dubois was pastor of the Thousand Islands' Church
for some time after Mr. Davenport quitted it, and perhaps
there is no better place than the present to insert a letter
written by Doctor Bethune to Mr. Dubois, embodying cer-
tain important opinions, although the date is several years
later.
''April 12, 1852.
You ask my advice and shall have it in all friendship. As a general
Tule no man ought to change his settlement, I mean his first settlement,
for several years. That settlement is his apprenticeship to the pastoral
office, and he cannot fairly learn its lessons in less time.
A minister's character is made in his first charge. If he be faithful
and successful there, he establishes a reputation which will follow him
through life, because it will be reputation among his clerical brethren,
who are, after all, the best judges. The school you are in is a hard, but
a good school. You have time for thought. You meet with a variety
of human nature. Your work does not overtask your brain, and every
hour is a preparation for a more important sphere. Two or three years
longer there will do you much good, and there is scarcely any position,
except those of the first class, which will give you greater prominence.
By declining preferment now you do not lose it but only postpone it, for
Providence has other places in store than thtit which you refer to.
Another general rule which should be very rarely broken tlirough, is
not to preach as a candidate. Young licentiates, or unsettled ministers,
perhaps must,— but very rarely should a minister who has a pulpit, put
himself forward, or be brought forward, as a solicitor for another. It
always lowers him in the sight of his own people, and in that of the peo-
ple he seeks. The seeker is always underrated. Let yourself be sought,
which you will be if you are faithful, and God blesses you in the place
216 MEMOIR or GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
his Providence assigns you. Do not try to be your own Providence, bu^
do your duty and trust the providence of God. Candidating has been
the curse of our churches, and has belittled our ministry. This is not
the popular doctrine, but it is the true one. I could point you to several
of our best men who have destroyed their hopes of advancement by seek-
ing it.
These are general rules — but of course there are exceptions, yours
may be one — and deeply interested as I am for the Islands, I would not
stand in the way of your usefulness or comfort. I am impartial in the
counsel given above. In any case you may rely on me, as far as you
may think it worth your while, as your constant and ready friend,
Geokge W. Bbthune."
In this Church of the Thousand Islands a beautiful mural
tablet has been erected by the Messrs. Stewart of Brooklyn,
to the memory of Dr. Bethune.
There is a touch of sentiment in the following refusal :
" I cannot meet you at Lake George. The friend* who was always
my companion there, the man whom I loved best and as whom I can
never love man again, is sleeping in sacred rest till the illustrious morn-
ing breaks. He is associated with every nook and island of Lake George,
and I can fish there no more."
Several allusions have been made to friends ; those who
were his most frequent companions in these excursions, be-
sides the Rev. Mr. Cooke of Lewiston, were Mr. George
Trott and the Rev. Dr. J. Wheaton Smith of Philadelphia.
Mr. Trott states that they were under canvas for two weeks
in the spring and autumn, and estimates that the time lie
spent with Dr. Bethune in the woods, would cover the space
of an entire year. He relates a meeting with an old clergy-
man in Canada, who was greatly astonished to find the pas-
tor in such trivial employ. " What !'^ he said " is this the
* Probably his brother-in-law, Mr. John Williama.
PREACill^G IN THE AVOODS. 217
great Dr. Betliune, and can it be that he has come all this
distance to amuse himself with fishing- ?'' Afterwards he
heard him preach to the backwoodsmen, and at once de-
clared that Dr. Bethune had acquired more influence over
these people in that brief visit than he had gained in years.
A lumber merchant said, he would be glad to pay all the
expenses of Dr. B. and friend, simply for the benefit that re-
sulted to his working people; and only last summer, Mr.
Trott met with a blessed result of those preachings. A
man in Maine told him that his first religious impressions
had been produced by Dr. Bethune 's sermon.
Preaching to these plain people, his pulpit either a stump
of a tree, or a rock, was often attended with ludicrous scenes.
One Sunday in Maine, just as he concluded a solemn service,
before the people had risen, the quietness was disturbed by
a slirili voice, " Has any of the congregation found a new
jack-knife? If they have, I've lost one, and they'll please
hand it over."
During these excursions, the diet was of the simplest
character ; alcoholic drinks, and even wine, were excluded
from the stores. It may be imagined that in these remote
regions, the forests of Maine and the wilder British Prov-
inces, the visit of such a distinguished stranger would be a
great event ; and he had a servant, named Ernest, who was
frequently sent forvv^ard to make arrangements for the party,
and he would amuse himself by exciting public expectation
to the highest point. The entree of the Doctor and his '' fi-
dus Achates " the Major, was like that of lords of the realm,
but they would find its consequence in the greatly increas-
ed bills that ensued.
Dr. Bethune himself has given a touching incident of his
mission work in the woods, narrated in an annual for Mr.
L. G. Clarke.
218 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
It occurred in Northern New York, when in company
with the Piseco Club* on the romantic banks of those waters
which had given them the poetic appellation; and where they
had erected a simple lodge. The article is headed *' Piseco."
" The Sabbath there had peculiar charms. No church-going bell rang
through the woods, no decorated temple lifted its spire, but the hush of
divine rest was upon all around. A sense of the Holy One rested on the
spirit, the birds sung more sweetly, the dews of the morning shimmered
more brightly, and the sounds of the forest were like the voice of Psalms.
As the day went on toward noon, the inhabitants, — whose dwellings
were scauered for miles around, some down the rocky paths, others in
boats on the lake, — singly or in companies, men, women, and little ones,
might be seen drawing near to the lodge, where, when all assembled,
they formed a respectful and willing congregation of perhaps fifty wor-
shippers, and listened to the words of the preacher, who sought to lead
them by the Gospel of the Cross through nature up to the God of grace.
Such opportunities were rare for them ; never, indeed, was a sermon
heard there, except on these occasions. The devout (for God the Sa-
viour had a ' few names' among them) received the word with ' glad-
ness'; all were attentive, and their visitors found, when joining v.ith
them in the primitive service, a religious power seldom felt in more
ceremonious homage.
On one of those sacred days, there came among the rest, two young,
graceful women, whose air and dress marked them as of a superior
cultivation. Their modest voices enriched the trembling psalmody, and
their countenances showed strong sympathies with the preacher's utter-
ances. At the close of t'no service, they made, through one of their
neighbors, a request that the minister would pay a visit to tlieir mother,
who had been a long time ill, and was near death. A promise was
readily given that he would do so the same day ; but their home lay four
miles distant, and a sudden storm forbade the attempt. The Monday
morning shone brightly, though a heavy cloud at the west suggested
precautions against a thunder shower. The friends parted from the
landing, each bent on his purpose ; but the chaplain's prow was turned
on Ms mission of comfort to the sick. Had any prim amateurs of eccle-
♦This club was a different institution from the friends mentioned just previously.
INTERESTING STORY. 219
siastical conventionalities, seen him with his broad-brimmed hat, neces-
sary for shelter from the sun, a green veil thrown around it as defence
from the mosquitoes near the shores, his heavy water-boots, and his
whole garb chosen for aquatic exigencies, (for like Peter, he had girt
his fisher's coat about him) they would hardly have recognized his
errand. But the associations of the scene with the man of Nazareth
and the Apostles by the Sea of Galilee, Avere in his soul, carrying him
back to the primitive Christianity, and lifting him above the forms with
which men have overlaid its simplicity. The boat flew over the placid
waters in which lay mirrored the whole amphitheatre of the mountain
shores, green as an emerald. The wooded point hid the lodge on the
one side, a swelling island the hamlets on the other. No trace of man
was visible. The carol of birds came off from the land, now and then
the exulting merriment of a loon rang out of the distance, and soon a
soft, southern breeze redolent of the spicy hemlock and cedar, rippled
the surface. The Sabbatli had transcended its ordinary hours, and shed
its sweet blessing on the following day. His rods lay idly over the stern
as the cliaplain thought of the duty before him and asked counsel of the
Master, who, ' Himself bare our sicknesses and carried our sorrows.'
He remembered the disciples, who said, 'Lord, he whom thou lovcst is
sick;' and the gracious ansAver, 'This sickness is not unto death, but
for the glory of God, that the Son of Man might be glorified tliereby.'
It is not the imagination merely that gives such power to tlie living
oracles, when they come to us where the testimony of nature unites with
the inspiration. It is the blessing of Jesus, who souglit the wilderness,
the shore and the mountain side to gain strength from communion with
his Father. It was in such solitudes that our example and forerunner
found courage for his trial and suffering. Eeligion is eminently social,
but its seat is the heart of the individual believer, and whatever be the
advantage of Christian fellowship, the flame must be fed in private,
personal converse witiithe Father cf our Spirits. He who has not been
r.lonc with God, can seldom find him in the crov.'dcd church.
A brief hour, briefer for these meditations, brought the keel of the
boat to a gravelly nook where the mouth of the inlet found a little
harbor. There, awaiting the chaplain's arrival, stood a tail, upright,
man, past the prime of life, who, with a style of courtesy evidently
foreign, bnrcd his gray head, and greeted his visitor by name of a
friend.
220 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUKE, D. D.
♦ You have kindly come, sir, to see my poor wife, I thank you for it.
She is now expecting you, for we heard the sound of your oars as you
turned the island.'
A rough stone house, built by a speculator of former days, stood on a
knoll a little \vay from the stream, and the garden around it was
trimmed with some taste. As they entered, the otvuer said, ' Welcome
to the mountain dwelling of an old soldier. He (pointing to an engraved
portrait of Blucher wreathed with laurel leaves) was my general, whose
praise I once received as I lay wounded on the field of battle. I am a
Prussian, sir, and came to this country, when my fatherland had no
more use for my sword. I have not been successful in my peaceful life,
and misfortune after misfortune drove me here, hoping to gather about
us a few of my countrymen, and make a German home ; but in that I
Avas disappointed. The severe winters chilled their resolution, and now
we are by ourselves. The few neighbors about us are not of cur class,
but they are kind and honest, and the world has nothing to tempt me
back to it. I have one brave son at sea. My two daugliters you saw
yesterday. We had another, but she sleeps yonder.'
He turned abruptly from the room. The chaplain, left to himself
observed about the apartment various articles of refinement and faded
luxury, telling tlie story of more prosperous days. The subsequent
acquaintance with the family confirmed his first impressions. Though
not of high rank, they were educated, of gentle manners, and though for
years remote from cultivated society, preserved the amenities which now
distinguished them. Only the father seemed to have suflfered from
want of occupation and, not unlikely, from habits formed in camp, habits
doubly dangerous in seclusion.
At a signal from another room, one of the daughters led the chaplain
to the bedside of the sufiercr. The father sat with his face averted,
near an open window, through which came the laughing prattle of a
child, and a half idiot serving-woman looked in wonderingly across the
threshhold of an outer kitchen. The daughters, having raised tlieir
mother's head on a higher pillow, and affectionately smoothed her thin,
gray hair under the snow-Avhite cap, withdrew to the other side of tlie
bed. The chaplain placed his broad hat, with its green veil, on the little
table, and sat silent for a while, not knowing how to begin, since, as yet,
nothing had given him a clue to the woman's state of mind. She lay
still and stone-like; her eyes were dry, with little 'speculation' in
THE DYIN(J CIiniSTIAX. 221
them; her lips moved, but uttered no sound, and lier hand feebly
stretched out, was cold and stiff. Her whole frame was worn to
extreme thinness, and the color of her skin told tiiat the seat of her
disease was the liver.
At length the chaplain, peeing that her soul was near its dread
passage into the eternal future, said: 'I am sorry my friend, to find
you so very ill. You are soon to die ! '
' Yes.'
* It is a fearful thing; are you not afraid? '
' No.'
' But to go into the presence of God, our Judge, is a most solemn
change.'
' Yes.'
* And are you not afraid ? '
♦No.'
The preacher was confounded; the short answers, almost cold,
without emotion, the glazed eye, the rigid countenance, caused him to
doubt whether he had to contend with ignorance or insensibility.
Anxious to rouse some feeling, if possible to startle into some attention,
as a physician applies the probe, he pushed severe declarations of
certain judgment and the danger of impenitence, reminded her that
C hrist, the Saviour of the believing, will be the Avenger of Sin, and
that * there is no work nor device in the grave, and as the tree falls so it
must lie.' The tearless eye unwinkingly gazed on him, and no shrink-
ing followed his keen surgery.
' Madam, you are going before God, and do you not fear? '
A faint smile stole struggling through her thin features, and a light,
like a star twinkling under a deep shadow, was seen far within her eye,
and, pointing witli her fmger upward, slie said, in a firm, low tone,
' Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Ilim.'
The chaplain bowed his head on the pillow and Avept thanks. Here
was no ignorant or callous soul, but a child of God, whose perfect love
had cast out fear. ' Yes, Christian soul, you are not afraid of evil
tidings ; your heart is fixed, trusting in Ilim who went this way before
you. Fear no evil ; His rod and His staff, they will comfort you.'
* Amen ! blessed be His name,' replied the dying woman. ' It is
true. I know in whom I have believed, and that He is able to keep
222 MEMOIR OF gp:o. w. bstiiune, d. d.
what I have committed to Kim. Because He hath been my help,
therefore under his wings do I rejoice ! '
It seemed now as if the fountain of her speech was unsealed, and,
though no moisture was in her eyes, and the few drops which started out
on her forehead were cold and clammy, and the worn lineaments had
lost the power to smile, and she lay still as marble, yet, with a voice
clear and unfaltering, she went on to testify her faith in Christ, and of
the peace that filled her soul. A strength denied to her body came from
within.
' Oh, sir, I thank you for coming. I thank God for sending you to
me, like the angel to Hagar in the wilderness ; I prayed for it. It is
four long years since I heard the voice of a Christian minister ; and all
that time I prayed for one to hold the water of life to my lips once
more. Now I know that lie has heard me, blessed be His name ! '
The preacher interrupted her to say, that she had not been left alone
by her God, who needed not man's lips to comfort his people.
'Alone! no, never alone! I have seen -Stm in his mighty works. I
have heard Him in the stoims of winter, and in the summer winds. I
had my Bible, His own holy word. His spirit has been with me. But
I thank Him for the voice of His commissioned servant, whose duty it is
to comfort his people.'
The readers of this imperfect sketch can have little idea of the elo-
quence, almost supernatural, pervaded by Scriptural language and im-
agery, with wliich she spoke. It was the soul triumphing over the faint-
ing flesh ; truth in its own energy, unaided by human expressions ; a
voice of the dead, not sepulchral, but of one near the gate of heaven.
The chaplain knelt beside the bed, and all the rest knelt with him ;
but there were more thanks than petitions in liis prayer. The clouds
that hung about the borders of eternity, were so bright with the glory
beyond, that sorrow and pain were forgotten, as he gave utterance to the
dying woman's memories and hopes, the memories of grace, and the
hopes of immortality that met together in her faithful heart. Nor need
I add, that his own gratitude was strong to the Good Shepherd who had
sent him to find this sheep among the mountains, not lost nor forgotten,
but longing for a token of her Saviours care.
When he rose from his knees, she thanked him again, but with more
BAPTISM IX THE V/ILDERNESS. 223
risible emotion than before, and said : ' Sir, I doubt not God directed
you here, and there is one favor more I h;ive asked of Him, and now
aslc through you. Three years ago rny eldest daughter died in my arms,
assured of rest, but leaving behind lier a babe not two weeks old.
Mother, she said, just as she was dying, I leave my child with you, to
bring her to me in heaven. You will do it for Christ's sake, and mine,
and hers, mother. And mother. He has told us to give little cldldren to
Him in baptism. Dear mother, promise that my child shall be baptised.
I promised, and her spirit departed. Ever since, I have been praying
and waiting for some minister to find his way to us, but in vain. More
than once I heard of some who had come as far as Lake Pleasant, but
none reached Piseco, and I almost feared that I should die and not be
able to tell my child in Heaven that the blessed water had been on her
baby's face. Yet, even in this, God has been good to me. You will
baptize my little one ? How gladly the chaplain assented, may be easily
imagined. The cliild was called in from her play on the grass-plat, her
rosy, wondering face was gently washed, and her light brown hair parted
on her forehead, and she stood with her bare, white feet, on a lov/ bench
by her grandmother's pillow. The grandfather filled an antique silver
bowl with water, freshly dipped from a spring near the river. An old
brass-clasped folio of Luther's Bible was laid open at the family record,
beside the water, the chaplain's broad hat on the other side ; he thought
not, and none thought, of his coarse grey coat, or his heavy boots : he
was full of his sacred office, and the presence of the Invisible wa.s upon
him. The feeble woman, strengthened by love and foith, raised herself
higher on the bed, and put her wasted arm over the plump shoulders of
the fair, blue-eyed child. The old man and his daughters, and her dull-
witted servant at the kitchen door, reverently standing, sobbed aloud;
and amidst the tears of all, except her whose source of tears was dried
up for ever, the chaplain recited the touching prayer of the Reformed
Churches before the baptism of infants, and with the name of the de-
parted mother breathed over her orphan, in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, she was dedicated to God by
water, sprinkled three times on her sweet grave face. The grandfather
handed a pen to the chaplain, but it was lightly pressed to trace the in-
scription, for the page was wet with the big drops that fell from tlie old
man's eyes.
224 MEMOIR or GEO. V/. BETIIUNE, D. D.
Many moments elapsed before the thanksgiving could be uttered, and
then the happy saint joyfully exclaimed :
* Bless you, sir ! I bless God that he has granted me tliis peace before
I die. Now I am ready to go to my child in Heaven.'
' My dear madam,' answered the preacher, 'it is, indeed, a blessed or-
dinance ; but the child of prayers for two generations would not have
missed the promise because of an impossibility on your part.'
' No, no ! The spirit is better than the form. She had the promise ;
I knew that she was in the covenant, but I wanted her in the fold.'
The chaplain entered his boat. Never did lake and mountain and
green shore look so beautiful, for they seemed all bathed in holy light ;
and that noon, when, with his friends reclining on the sward, he told the
story of the baptism in the wilderness, their moistened eyes expressed
their sympathy with his joy.
Heaven opened for the grandmother a few days afterwards. The next
year her Saviour took uj) her cliild's child in his arms, and the three
were together among the angels. The grandfather lived but a short
time. One of the daughters having married a farm.er, moved witli her
sister, down into the open country, where she also died in her young
beauty. Of the two other m^embers of the family, I have heard nothing
since.
The old stone house still stands near the rushing inlet, but the storms
beat through its broken windows. Eank weeds have overrun the gar-
den, and brambles hide the spring near the kitchen door. Yet the
path from the landing-place can be followed ; and should any of my
readers ever visit Piseco, now more accessible, but charming as ever,
they can easily recognize the scene of my story. It is ever fresh and
hallowed in my memory ; for there I learned, by precious experience,
that the good God never forgets those who trust in Him ; and still, go
where we will, we may carry this blessing with us to some heart thirsting
for His word."
What a commentary on his own words in the preface to
Walton and Cotton's Angler :
' I trust that I have drunk enough of the old angler's spirit not to let
such pastime break in upon better tilings ; but, on the other hand, I
ADVICE TO YOUNG ANGLEKS. 225
have worked the harder from thankfulness to Him who tauglit the brook
to wind with musical gurglings, as it rolls on to the great sea."
He practised on the advice given to the young men of
Yale College should they go a fishing :
" Nor should the angler forget the best of books in his pocket, and a
few well-chosen jewels of truth to give away as he enjoys the simple fare
of some upland cottage, or chats with the secluded inmates during
the soft twihght, before he asks a blessing upon the household for the
night."
15
226 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
CHAPTER IX.
LITERARY AND PUBLIC LABORS.
There is little to note in Dr. Bethune's life at this time
beyond the literary works which proceeded from his inces-
sant pen. In 1848, the " British Female Poets, Avith Bio-
graphical and Critical Notices/' was edited by him, " and the
specimens which he gives are well chosen, the biographical
sketches ably written, and the characteristics of each writer
skilfully discriminated. '^ It was also expected that he
would follow this with the '' Female Poets of America," but
that task was transferred to a young friend,"^' in whose judg-
ment and taste he had great confidence. A little earlier,
Lindsay and Blakiston issued a volume of his poetry, entitled
"Lays of Love and Faith, with other Fugitive Poems.'' Dr.
Bethune did not give himself to making poetry, it was merely
an incident to his more severe labors with which he occupied
his leisure hours. " Many of these lays were tributes of
affection to those most dear to their author, whilst others
were devotional, epigrammatic, patriotic and miscellaneous ;
and all exhibit a rich and vivid imagination, much delicacy
of sentiment and expression, and melod}'- of versification.''
Mr. William H. Prescott writes, ''I asked my wife as she
read them to me (which is my way of reading) to mark
those we liked the best ; but I soon found they were nearly
all to be marked, that is, the original pieces ; They are
warmed by a genuine feeling, and often have a vein of
* Misa Caroline May.
CIIK13TMAS HYMN. 0^7
tender melancholy running- tlirougli them, which looks for
repose to a better world than this ; you are certainly the
poet of the heart as well as of the head. One would hardly
have looked for this vein, in one of so cheerful, not to say
comical, turn in conversation. Arc the man and the author
of different natures ? ''
It was the custom of Dr. Bethune to prepare hymns for
bis Sunday school children on their festal days, and we
present the following, as a happy specimen :
CHRISTMAS HYMN.
"Joy and gladness ! joy and gladness,
O happy day !
Every thought of sin and sadness,
Chase, chase away.
Heard ye not the angels telling,
Christ, the Lord of might, excelling,
On the earth with man is dwelling,
Clad in our clay !
With the shepherd throng around him
Haste we to bow ;
By the angels' sign they found him,
We know him now !
New-born babe of houseless stranger,
Cradled low in Bethlehem's manger,
Saviour from our sin and danger,
Jesus, 'tis thou I
God of life, in mortal weakness,
Hail, Virgin born !
Infinite in lowly meekness.
Thou wilt not scorn.
Though ail Heaven is singing o'er thee,
And gray wisdom bows before thee,
When our youthful hearts adore thee.
This lioly morn.
228 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
Son of Mary, blessed mother!
Thy lore we claim ;
Son of God, our elder brother,
O ! gentle name !
To thy Father's throne ascended,
With thine own His glory blended,
Thou art all thy trials ended,
Ever the same.
Thou wert born to tears and sorrows,
Pilgrim divine ;
Watchful nights and weary morrows,
Brother, were thine ;
By thy fight with strong temptation,
By thy cup of tribulation,
Oh, thou God of our salvation,
With mercy shine.
In thy holy footsteps treading.
Guide, lest we stray,
From thy word of promise, shedding
Light on our way ;
Never leave us, nor forsake us,
Like thyself in mercy make us.
And at last to glory take us,
Jesus, we pray."
G. W. B. TO Mrs. J. B. '' 3Iarch 18, 1848.
Mt Beloved Mother : Before you receive this, you will be praying
to God for your son on the anniversary of his birth, and I shall have
blessed him for giving my opening life to the care of such a mother. I
desire to renew my filial obligations, and declare to you, out of my
heart's truth, that I am still in all reverent obedience and affection,
your grateful son, your child.. Would that I could have better oppor-
tunities of proving how devotedly I am yours. Dear mother, I was a
wayward youth, and am a very faulty man ; forgive me all the past and
give me you^ blessing in my future. God will hear us both, you for
me, me for you."
LETTER TO DR. VEllMILYE. 229
Dr. Bethune to Dr. Vermilye. " Aj^ril 17, 1848.
Mt Dear Vermilye : I am at a loss, principally from lack of proper
information, how to act in reference to some present circumstances.
Rumors uncertain and indistinct have run through my congregation, of
my name having been used in several baliotings of your consistory for
an additional minister, and, as might be supposed some uneasy inquiry
has been excited. I find also that some out of your congregation, and
some in, have thought me a candidate for the vacant place. It has even
been said, though by those who had no right to speak on the subject,
that I ought to withdraw my name. Tliis you know I cannot do, as I
never directly or indirectly presented it ; nor can I, without impertinence,
presume to know any tiling of proceedings in your consistory about whicli
I have no legitimate information. At the same time, while I duly appre-
ciate the honor of being named by any one or more individuals, as at all
fitted for so high a station, I have a great repugnance to being tliought
a candidate for any pulpit whatever. Other brethren may, if they choose,
as they have a right, take another course ; but, for myself, since the
beginning of my ministry, I have carefully avoided any step that might
bring me under any suspicion of offering myself to any congregation,
and I am anxious to maintain my character. From your own high sense
of Christian honor, and the unrestrained confidence of our friendship,
you will, I trust, appreciate my feelings when I confess myself annoyed
by the supposition, in any quarter, of my having deviated from a rule of
ministerial conduct which I early adopted, and have never varied from.
I am not sure that any thing needs to be done, but as you have a better
opportunity of knowing, I beg you to act for me as, in like circumstances,
I would act for you. The delicacy of my position compels me to throw
myself upon the kindness you have ever shown to your affectionate
friend and brother, George "W. Bethuxe.
P. S. This note is confidential, but only so far as not to prevent your
using it to secure tlie end for wiiich it has been written."
The above letter defiiies with perfect accuracy Dr.
Bethime's position with reference to a question of interest,
namely, a possible call to be associate pastor of the Colle-
giate Church of New York. The communication did not
and was not intended to prevent further movement in the
230 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIiUXE, D. D.
matter, but solely to bring any possible negotiation to a
point. In due time, September 15th, he was distinctly in-
formed by Dr. John Knox, that he had been elected by the
consistory, but the question was set at rest by Dr. Bethune's
reply.
" Sepieraher 25, 18-18.
* Grace be unto you and peace be multiplied.'
Dearly Beloved Brethren : It is with a deep sense of ray unwor-
thiness, that I gratefully acknowledge having received on the 23d inst.,
from the hands of your committee, the enclosed call to exercise my
ministry within the sphere of your churcli.
You are aware, brethren, of the responsible station I now hold as the
Pastor and Bishop of a church not undeserving of your fraternal regard,
which is very dear to me because of its eminent fidelity in our Master's
cause, and the affectionate kindness ever shown by them to their
minister, for the Master's sake. This, with other circumstances, ren-
dered this question submitted by you to my judgment, one of great
gravity, from the influence my decision must have upon both the
churches, and upon my future course as a Christian man, and a minister
of the gospel.
The result of my conscientious deliberations, and I trust, not insin-
cere supplications for Divine help, has been that I ought to decline
respectfully but firmly, the call which I was unworthy to receive, yet
am not free to entertain."
Dr. Bethune had a mulatto servant,* who rejoiced in the
Scripture name of Aquila, or Aquilla, as be was usually
misnomered. This faithful man always kncAV where his
master's books were to be found ; often too, when the owner
himself had forgotten, or never given himself the trouble
to find out; so the two were continually in the study
together, and the servant was of all his master's council.
* There was something very pleasant in Dr.Bethune's relation with his servants.
Aquila lived in his family for fourteen years, and died in the arms of the Doctor,
who at his funeral followed tlie liearse as chief mourner.
THE COLLEGIATE aVLL. 231
"Aquila," said the Doctor, when he was pondering on the
letter we liave just given, "What do you think of this call
to the Collegiate church in New York, should I accept it?"
^'•IIow many gentlemen did you say signed it ? " " Twenty-
four." "Hard thing to serve twenty-four masters, sure to
get into trouble with some of them," w^as the sententious
and, w^e may fairly believe, decisive rejoinder.
Many contingent advantages were sacrificed by this re-
jection of the Collegiate call : a nearly doubled salary, easier
work, greater leisure for literary pursuits, the near neighbor-
hood of Mrs. Joanna Bethune, and a home in his native
city ; but, acting to the best of his not unassisted judgment,
Dr. Bethune chose to forego all these, and it is useless to
speculate whether a different course of action might not
have prolonged his life.
This event gave occasion to a Report which was presented
to the Third Dutch church of Philadeli^hia, and presents a
valuable expression of sentiment as well as a sketch of
ministerial success. It was accompanied with the sub-
stantial donation of one thousand dollars. We quote some
sentences.
" How shall your committee charactei-ize the ardent desire that met
them every where, not only for the health and happiness of their pastor,
but for the continuance of his usefulness in a sphere where he has
liithcrto shone with unsurpassed lustre ?
That their efforts have through the blessings of God been crowned
with success, no one can or does for a moment doubt; and such success,
without endowments, without great wealth among our early pioneers,
this pile arose at a cost of fifty-five thousand dollars. A little more
than twelve years ago the seed was planted. The fruit has been, the
reduction of the debt to about sixteen thousand dollars; voluntary
contributions by the members of the society, exclusive of private
232 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
benevolences, for various religious and charitable associations of
between thirty and forty thousand dollars ; a large number of com-
municants ; almost every pew, and almost every seat in the pews, either
owned or rented; an agreeable, attentive and enlightened audience;
the most entire and perfect harmony on all our concerns. Surely the
seed has fallen in good ground. But sever the tie that binds us, and
who shall answer for the consequences to this society? "Who is to
sustain them, to guide their tottering feet through an unaccustomed
path? To them the cloud may vanish by day, and the pillar of fire by
night be forever extinguished. The picture must not be dwelt upon.
We have done something, will do more. But the tie which binds us
to our pastor, our friend, our Bethune, cannot, must not be broken."
On the 23d of October the call to New York was again
forwarded to Dr. Bethune with urgent letters and verbal
messages, but met with a similar answer.
G. Yf. B. TO Mrs. J. B. "Philadelphia, Odoler 23, 1848.
My beloved Mother : I have been reproaching myself ever since
declining to preach for your Liberian school. Por you I should be
glad to do anything. That thing requires time. If it will do after a
Avhile, tell your boy what your wishes are and he will try to be a good
child.
My old friend Mr. Labriskie came in again on Thursday, with the call
in no way altered except that the additional five hundred is endorsed
upon it. Indeed I think my people would give mo any thing I ask now,
but alas, they cannot give me my dear mother. I\Iy time is filled with
duties, yet passes sadly and solitary enough. You are not out of mind
for an hour except when I am asleep, and then I often dream of you.
I had a sweet subject for a sermon yesterday morning : The youth
of Jesus, embracing his questioning with the doctors. It is full of
delightful interest, and I got light iipon it I never had before.
I send the call back to-day, but with a pang in thus consenting to be
separated from you.
God bless my dear mother.
Geo. W. Bethtine."
THE LAW AND THE MEDIATOR. 2oo
"■ OdGler 30.
I was happy while studying for ray last sermon. It was on Galatians
iii. 19 : The law in the hands of the mediator. If you will compare
the 8th and 17th verses of the chapter, you will see how strongly the
apostle argues to show that the lavN-- is actually under or part of the
system of mercy. A most cheering and edifying thought.
(8th verse. And the scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the
heathen through faith, preached before the gospel unto Abraham, saying,
in thee shall all nations be blessed.
17th verse. And this I say, that the covenant that was confirmed
before of God in Christ, the law, wliicli was four hundred and thirty
years after, cannot disannul, that it should make the promise of no
effect.
19th verse. "Wherefore then serveth the law ? It was added because
of transgressions, till the seed should come to whom the promise was
made ; and it was ordained by angels in the hand of a mediator.)
It seems to me that the reasoning of the apostles throughout the
chapter, upsets the millenarian notions about the glory the Jews are
to have in the latter days. The seed of Abraham to whom the promises
arc made, is the seed of faith, not of nature. The moment Jew and
Gentile are in Christ, they are one, no difference.
I am quite well, though a little Mondayish, for I worked hard
yesterday."
" NoveTtiher 5.
I was preaching this morning to a handful of my people (for the
weather was stormy), on the first verse of the xc. Psalm: 'The
Lord our dwelling-place in all generations.' OuVy the plural pronoun,
connects the believer with all God's people in the past and in the future,
as one family, having one dwelling-place, home in God. The thought^
open beautifully.
I had a high compliment paid me the other day, and as it may gratify
you, I may be pardoned the vanity of telling it. Professor Anthon
(the learned Anthon of Columbia College) has dedicated his late
edition of Xenophon's Memorabilia of Socrates to me. I have not
even seen the Professor for many years, though he has been kind
enough to write me ttvice in answer to some literary questions I put
to him.
234 iMEjIOIP. OF Gi:0. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
It runs : ' To Eev. George ^Y. Bethune, D.T>. the able theologian, the
eloquent divine, the graceful and accomplished scholar, this work is re-
spectfully dedicated by one who takes pride in clainung him as an early
pupil and a steadfast friend.'
There is no interested motive that can be imagined for this."
All this writing had one inevitable effect, and we must
alas ! here chronicle that Dr. Bethune's hand-writing, once
so neat and plain, had by this time become illegible
altogether.
" You laugh at your hand-writing," says his friend Littell.
"How beautiful it is in general^ but how much in general
it is ! I take great credit to myself for making it out, and
as it looks like some of the Arabic MSS., Avhich are
copied into some of your Commentaries, I may have too
readily yielded to the notion that I could not read them."
Here is another whimsical jeremiade of later date.'^ It
seems we little know hov/ much we cause our brother to
sin by careless calligraphy.
"My deak Major: Yours of the 23d reached me yesterday. I had
previously received the Doctor's. It was one of his distinguished
efforts, fairly brilliant.
I knew he must be going somewhere by the way the lines ran. I
thought he must be going a fishing for there were lots of fins tails and
fish-hooks. But where, O Roberto ! that was the question. I followed
the lines in hopes they might terminate at the destined place. But no,
they did not terminate at all. Instinctively I turned over the leaf; they
were running still, sliding down into the very south-east corner of the
sheet, and the doctor stiU paying out.
In despair I took the back track. In other words tried to read the
letter backwards. Tracing my way slowly back, I found about the mid-
dle of the letter the word ' river'. This confirmed me in the notion that
* From Dr. I. Wlieatoa Smith.
ILLEGIBLE WKITING. 235
the Dr. wa^ going a fishing, for it seemed to me a river would be a very
appropriate place for it. But what river? Here I was hung up again,
till glancing on I made out with difficulty the word ' Lake.' I conject-
ured that the river must empty into this lake, which seemed a very prop-
er thing for a river to do. I now felt tolerably certain the Dr. was go-
ing a fishing in a river emptying into a lake, and as the fishing would
naturally be somewhere about the outlet, I was pretty sure of finding
him. But ^vhat lake, I could not divine. The best I could make of it
was ' Jimco'. I had never heard of such a lake, and wondered where
it could be ; when to complete my wonderment I found the word pre-
ceding river was Seven. Now, thought I, if there are seven of these
rivers emptying into Lake ' Jimco', the Lord only knows which of them
the Dr. is going to fish, and for all I know he may fish Lake ' Jimco'
itself.
In this dilemma your letter arrived, and with aid from it I have been
able to translate a large portion of the Doctor's. Now, I beg of you,
don't tell the Dr. that I criticize his writing, for, just as likely as not, in
attempting any sudden change he will spoil his hand."
In the early part of September, 1848, the "Union Magazine"
was purchased by John Sartain. Dr. Bethune was offered
one hundred dollars per month to edit it. This offer he was
under the necessity of declining, and contented himself with
undertaking to supply nine articles per year at $50 per ar-
ticle. The enterprising purchasers of the Magazine would
fain have bound him wholly to their interests by a promise
not to write for other periodicals, but they did not succeed
in so doing. He was, however, glad to have it to say that
he was writing for one Monthly, in order to resist the im-
portunities of others.
Aunt Betsey's fireside lectures began to appear in the
latter part of the year 1849. These lectures which appeared
in the " Union Magazine'' were amusing and popular. Aunt
Betsey was a real personage, a favorite aunt of Mrs. BethunC;
whom he knew and loved right well.
238 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
" The advice of the Laird of Dumbiedykes' father may be
applied" writes the author to his mother, " with a little
change to a book intended to do good. ' Be aye preparing
to print such books, for they do good wliile you are sleeping ;
far away from your immediate sphere, and even after you
are dead.' I am, it is true, by no means great at authorship,
but have the consolation of knowing that my books have
done some good.''
We present a specimen of Aunt Betsey's circle as talking
from Sartain.
"We are a quiet family of a half dozen; my excellent sister and her
excellent husband, the one a steady, sensible notable housewife, the
other a zealous gentleman farmer, whose purse suffers occsaionally
from his promising experiments ; their daughter Kate, in the bloom of
seventeen, light-hearted and bright-minded, not the less winning for be-
ing not a little mischievous, as Kates always are; their son Tom, two
years older, somewhat of a coxcomb, but a good fellow at bottom, who
is dubbed a law-student, from spending a few hours a week in 'Squire
Lackbrief s office ; Aunt Betsey, my mother's older and only sister ; and
myself, familiarly called Uncle Tom, of whom the less said the better, a
confirmed bachelor, and less fond of talking than using my pen, though
it is of little use, except in recording such scraps of second-hand wis-
dom as I hear from others.
Nov. 10, 18 — . This afternoon Tom returned from town, bringing
Kate a letter, crossed and recrossed in a m.inute, faint-inked chirography,
from a quondam schoolmate of hers, now a dashing belle. Kate's brow
flushed, and her hands trembled with excitement as she read the epistle
under the lamp; ' What is it my child?' said her mother. Kate read
on to the last word of the glossy, rose-colored sheet; and then, drawing
her chair between my sister and Aunt Betsey, she began :
' Only think, Fanny Fryer says that old IMiss Meddler told her that ' —
Here she sunk her voice so low that Tom and I (his father was deep in
the account of a cattle sale) could only catch — ' Mrs you know
Miss .... that married the rich brewer's son only two years ago ....
Major. . . . used to be her lover. . . . father broke off the match . . . .
AUNT BETSEY OX SCANDAL. 237
came back fi'om Europe .... constantly walking together .... fam-
ily consultaticn . • . . likely to be a duel . . . . everybody talking about
it .... hushed up ... . must not say anything to any one, at least
that she told me '
*Eie ! Fie ! my dearie, what does thee fash thy bonny head with such
bletherin' malice. It's no becoming a lassie like thee, or any lady, to
file her tongue with tales like that. The evilest sign of a woman, I know,
is being given to scandal.'
(Aunt Betsey was regularly set in for a fireside lecture.)
' Old Dr. McCreechie of the Tollbooth-kirk, never said a truer word,
than that a "scandalous tongue always showed a licentious heart " ; for
"out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh", and it is only out
of an evil heart that evil things can come. Charity, Avhich is a complete
name for all goodness, just as Love is the name of God — " thinketh no
evil."
' But aunt, dear aunty,' put in the blushing Kate, ' when people expose
themselves, surely charity ' —
' Is not easily provoked, dearie, which, though I don't know the oreeg-
inal, means, I suppose, is not easily suspicious of evil, sees everything
in the best light, makes every possible allowance, and even imagines ex-
cuses it cannot see, because " it rejoiceth not in iniquity", — hates the
very sight and thought of crime, and if it cannot discover innocence,
turns its bonny eye away up to heaven with a tear in it, as a prayer for
the sinner's pardon to our heavenly Father, who " pitieth our infirmities,
and rememboreth that we are but dust". So should thee do, my darling.
If our good God looked at our evil, " who could stand ? " and it aye seems
to me like a defying Him who is ever hearing what we say, to speak of
our neighbour's faults, because the Saviourhas told us we shall be meas-
ured by our own stoup. I have heard ministers say that the name of
the devil is accuser, and we know that he was a liar from the beginning,
so that wickedness, lying and scandal make up his 'character ; and your
scandalizers are just like the little devils that the muckle de'il uses to
do his mischief with.
'But when our Lord came to destroy the works of the devil, and set us
a pattern of a good man, he became the friend of sinners, because lie
pitied them, and interceded for their pardon. How much must God hate
to hear us talking scandal, like the devil ! How much must He love to
hear us talking kindly, and gently, and meekly, like his well-beloved
238 MEMOm OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Son ! When the Blessed One -ivas upon earth, his words were all mer-
ciful, except to those who tliought themselves better than others, and
spoke evil of them ; tliat was enough to prove that they were desperate-
ly wicked themselves, because it was so unlike our Father in Heaven-
They made a great pretence of goodness, but they were hypocrites, just
white-washed sepulchres. Do you no mind when they brought to him
the poor fallen misdoer, and she lay silent in the dust at his holy feet,
without a word to say, in the sorrows of her shame, how he bid the one
without sin to cast the first stone ? There was but One without sin
among tliat company, and He just bid her " go and sin no more."
Indeed, and indeed Dr. McCreechie was right, there is ahvays a licen-
tious heart where there is a scandalous tongue ; it is they who love the
sin that love to talk about it, and they, who know they would not resist
temptation, that are most ready to think another has not. Their imagi-
nations are just like the black corbie that Noah sent out of the ark,
scenting the dead and the lo.athsome, and flying to glut themselves with
what is vile ; but let yours, lassie, be like the sweet silver-winged dove
that came back with the green branch of hope in her bill. The world is
bad enow, but God loves it, and his Son died for it, and it is yet to be
like another heaven ; and there's many a green branch for the dove, if
there be many a dead thing for the corbie. It was like a dove that the
Spirit came down to the Saviour, and without the spirit of a dove we can
never fly up to him.
' Xever be like a corbie, Katie dear, except it be to those that God
clianged from their nature, and sent to carry bread to his hungry saint.
Mistress "Wheatfiold (Aunt Betsey is scrupulous in giving my sister her
matronly title, as honour due to the female head of the family), if I am a
wee bit hard on the lassie its no' in unkindness. But, 'deed, our Katie
is just like the rest of us, the descendant of old Adam, and, what for
should I not say, a daughter of old Eve ? for she it was that the devil
threw his glamour over, and the pleasant voice of his bonny bride led
the man astray.
' The Apostle calls woman the weaker vessel, but he himself tells u.s
that God puts strength into weak things, and women are strong for good,
but may be also, as all know, strong for evil. As you train the lassie,
you make the wife and mother ; and the hand that rocks the cradle rules
the world, as some one says.
* We are over-fond of talking about the dignity of the sex, and unvrill-
239
ing to show that womayi can do wrong, in the same breath that we con-
demn women for doing wrong. Let Katie wear the ornaments of a meek
ajid quiet spirit , which are of more price in God's sight than pearlings
or diamonds. It's more than foil}'' to say out in tlie church that we are
"miserable sinners ", and tbat " there's no hciib.li in us " and after each
commandment " Lord liaA^e mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to
keep this law"; and then, at our firesides, draw ourselves up as if we
could not fall into the sin which others have fallen into. Human na-
ture is a poor frail thing, and the more we tbink so of it, tlie more chari-
table will we be toward our fellow-sinners, and the more humble our-
selves. ''The beginning of strife is like the letting out of water", and so
is die beginning ot an evil habit. If you do not stop it at the first, the
tide will soon be too strong for you. Katie has never talked scandal in
my hearing before, and I am fain to keep her from ever talking it
again.'
* But dear, good, precious Aunt Betsey,' half-sobbed Katie, * I only — '
'Yes, dearie, you only — Miss Meddler only told Fanny Pryer, and
Fanny Tryer onhj wrote to you , and you onli/ told us, and if we oiily
went on telling others, and they others, the character of these people,
who may be as innocent as lambs, would be ruined. Just bring it home,
and think what it is to have one's fair character stained in such a way I
We would not be thieves, yet we take away wliat no gold or silver could
buy or redeem ; we would not be murderers, yet we break the hearts of
our fellow-beings with shame ; and this by 07iJt/ repeating what malice
dared first onli/ whisper in a single ear — until every one hears of it, and,
then we excuse ourselves by saying, " the thing is so public that it is
the talk of the town"!
* Don't tell me that circumstances are so strong as to make the thing
certain. Such is the time for Charity to plead; for she '• hopeth all
tlungs ". Tom there can tell — that many a man has been condemned on
circumstantial evidence, whose innocence afterward was *' brought fortli
as the light ". Our good house-dog Faithful, that Tom shot, — because a
bheep was killed, and the dumb beast, that could not speak for himself,
came home bloody about tlie mouth, — had been but defending his mas-
ter's flock from the strange mastiif that was found the next day dead be-
hind the stone-dyke; and all our sorrow can never bring back to our
ear the deep bark at midnight that told us the sleepless sentinel was on
240 MEMOIPw OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
his round. How sorry should we be, when this story of the 's turns out
false, if we have allowed ourselves for a moment to think so ill of them,
much more, if we have led others to do so. One, who knows men's
hearts better than we can know them, has left a blessing for those,
against whom '■ all men speak all manner of evil falsely for his sake " ; so
the world treated the prophets and apostles : and so they crucified the
spotless Lamb of God. Never, then, think a scandal must be true be-
cause all the world tells it. One little tongue, that is "set on Sre of
hell," may set the world on fi.re.
'Even if the scandalized people are guilty, we are not called on to be
their executioners. A hangman is always held infamous by the general
prejudice ; but they are worthy of infamy who perform that oiHce as
amateurs.
' The devil has not so cloven a foot, but he may wear a kid slipper;
yes, and he can write letters on rose-coloured paper, Katie, though they
smell of musk instead of brimstone And now, Katie, my
darling,' said Aunt Eetsey as she rose up, and then bent her stately
head to kiss our pet on her wet cheeks, ' go your ways ; and when you
repeat the Lord's Prayer to-night, pause to think what you mean as you
say :
''Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against
us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil ! ' "
Here Jonas came in with our little supper, v/hich we are too fond of
old-fashioned comforts to miss, and Aunt Betsey's lecture on scandal
was finished."
We must again pass over cursorily nearly a year of time,
and a vast mass of correspondence. The time is without
incident, and the correspondence of the usual character.
If any man in a prominent position would take the trouble
to keep a register of all the irrelevant, and impertinent let-
ters which he receives, what an amazing list it would be.
What a drain upon his pocket to pa}^ the postage of the an-
swers ; what a heavy tax in stationery. What hours of
precious time consumed in deciphering their ignoble callig-
IRRELEVANT LETTERS. 241
raphy, and consigning them to the waste-paper basket.
How many scores of people to be gratified with an auto-
graph and a sentiment, who have not the good breeding to
enclose a stamp in the letter of application. How many
whom he has never heard of desire introductions to those
he has never seen. How many desire to be put in places
which could by no possibility be in his gift. How many
want his money on the simple pretext that he has it and
they have not. How difficult, always, to say no, civilly,
and how impossible in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred
to say yes. Such letters and such annoyances, are the in-
evitable penalty of position. The careful wife of the sub-
ject of our memoirs, kept all her husband's letters, and
filed them duly away. We are, therefore, admitted to the
privilege of contemplating a small mountain of epistolary
matter ; each letter of which is amply done justice to, with
a single glance, if " fair writ,'' or certainly consigned to
oblivion, when ten minutes' strain upon the optic nerve
lias been given to illegible incoherence. One sensitive
creature has been startled, in the stillness of his room, by a
white dove that ''perched above the chamber door" ; im-
mediately thereafter, he fell into an illness, and, on conva-
lescing, wrote to Dr. Bethune for a piece of poetry suited
to this interesting and inscrutable circumstance. Another,
more importunate, has a country parish, must drive about,
and is so afraid of a horse that his life is a burden to him.
He pathetically prays our Doctor to procure him a post
where he will not have to ride or drive. A third coolly
asks him to revise a work for the press, but makes no men-
tion of a cheque in payment. There are many letters anent
the Thousand Islan'd Church. There are outpourings of
16
242 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
the heart on matters personal and religious ; there are in-
vitations to preach, and announcements of honorary elec-
tions ; and, by the time we reach the missive which sets forth
its writer's opinion, that " the yankees have thick epider-
mides,'^ we shall have arrived at material for narrative.
We are now to chronicle another great change in our min-
ister's life, in his departure from Philadelphia, the reasons
for which are fully set forth in an elaborate paper of resig-
nation, to the consistory of his church. It is dated Brook-
lyn, August 28, 1849.
The great cause for removal was the necessity of Mrs.
Bethune's health, and his duty as a faithful husband. She
had been compelled to remove to Brooklyn, and her fre-
quent and painful attacks had constantly distracted the pas-
tor's mind and heart :
" I have never been more sensible," he -writes, '• than I am at present,
indeed, never have I felt so keenly the obligations under which I am, to
you and your congregation. I recall, Arith hearty gratitude, the gener-
ous devotion of the little band, who began the enterprise of building the
clu;rch under God for me. I recall, though I cannot sufficiently esti-
mate, their devoted zeal, courage, perseverance and liberality, among
the dark and difficult times of its earlier history. I recall the prompt-
ness with which they, and those in later times associated with them,
have always met their engagements with me ; and the very liberal man-
ner in which they have ministered to my necessity and comfort beyond
my claims upon them, especially when they enabled me to go abroad
for my health, advancing me my salary when I was absent, and during
the same time paying for the supply of the pulpit ; and again more re-
cently, in a munificent present as a token of their regard, on Christmas
last. I recall the forbearance and earnest friendship shewn me during
the bitterest trials of my ministerial life, when, on returning, sick and
feeble from abroad, I found myself assailed by persecutions from those
whom I would have died to serve. I recall the ever ready welcome
Avhich has met me on the threshhold of every household, from every in-
LEAVING PHILADELPHIA. 243
dividual of tlie congregation. Very fondly have I loved my people, and
I know that I have been loved in return, notwithstanding my infirmities
my errors and my faults. I have ever felt as if my congregation Avas to
me as a family. I am deeply sensible of my many deficiencies, but the
more grateful for their aftection, which has been granted to me notwith-
standing them all.
In these circumstances, I feel, and I tliink you should feel, tliat noth-
ing short of necessity could sever the bond between us. It is nothing
less than the hand of God that dissolves our union, and to his Providence
we should humbly submit, because what God does is wise and right. Nei-
ther ambition, nor avarice, nor love of ease, seduce me from you. Such
motives I have more than once cheerfully resigned for your sake. I ex-
pect, on my separation from you, to take charge of a feeble, much dilap-
idated church, which has appealed to me for help, to save them from
dissolution. I never expect to be so happy with another church, or to
find such another people as that wliich my heart loves the more tenderly,
as I must tear myself from it. As I have been writing, my mind's eye
has been going from pew to pew, from person to person, seeing each
familiar face, receiving the greeting of each familiar voice. Brethren
and friends, I could not tear myself from you unless I were compelled to
do so."
He then proceeds to show that no expedient will obviate
the necessity of this separation, and considers its probable
effect npon the coDgregation. Fears are entertained that
the people will be scattered, but he says :
" Much will depend on the prompt action of the consistory and
Board of Trustees, in supplying the vacant pulpit, by doing which, they
may not merely prevent people from going away, but also induce others
to join with you. For this reason, let me earnestly advise that as soon
as possible, you decide upon calling some well-known and esteemed
minister, without waiting until the congregation are distracted by various
preferences, which would inevitably be the case, should you throw open
your pulpit to candidates. Besides, such a minister as you should de-
cide to have, would be far more likely to accept a call when promptly
and unanimously given, than after a delay. It is also, believe me, a
very poor way to judge of a preacher's quahfications, on hearing once
244 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
or twice in the pulpit. It is far better to choose one whom you have
never seen, if he has the high esteem of his brethren as a faithful and
able minister of the New Testament. The intense anxiety I feel, and
shall continue to feel in your future welfare,, must be my excuse for not
waiting until my advice is asked before I give it ; and I dare to hope
that if you act promptly, all, by the blessing of God, will be more than
well. When the necessary formalities are gone through with, I shall,
with the permission of Providence, go to Philadelphia, and attempt to
utter my farewell. Commending you to God, and the bond of his
grace, and assuring each of you of my grateful and undying affection,
I am,
Your servant in the Gospel of Christ,
Geo. W. Bethune."
The receipt of this communication was bewailed, but its
arguments could not be resisted. A crowd of letters from
all sorts of people testify the golden opinions which had
been won :
*' Your letter and resignation," writes Captain G. D. Magruder, 6th of
September, "was read to a crowded lecture-room on Monday night.
Many tears were shed, and the deepest sorrow manifested by the people,
but not a word of censure or blame did I hear from any quarter ; there
was a disposition not to receive your resignation, supposing a ' leave of
absence for three or six months would answer your purpose,' but when
told that this course had been proposed to you, there was a sorrowful
acquiescence to the decrees of Providence, which seemed unendurable.
That some small portion of the congregation will be induced to leave
the church in her present distress, is more than probable, but that there
will be anything like a general defection, I have no idea. The very cir-
cumstances of our trouble in parting from a pastor so justly cherished by
us all, will draw more closely the bonds of union between those who love
the cause of the Master, the great Head of the Church."
Another dear friend writes under the same date :
"My Dear Dominie: How shall I tell you of our grief? My
thoughts come slowly and my words, also, when I attempt to give
INVITATION TO BALTIMORE. 245
language to that which our hearts so deeply feel. We have for weeks
been endeavoring to resign ourselves to the necessity of a separation
which we knew to be inevitable, and thought we had in a measure sue-
ceeded ; but when it was announced that you had actually determined
upon it, we discovered how illy we were prepared. Whatever may
have been our shortcomings and neglects of duty while you were still
with us, whatever apparent coldness there may have been, all now is
love and sorrow. I cannot bear to realize that your ministrations
amongst us are at an end ; and I fear, however much you may depre-
cate such a consequence, that the church will never recover from the
effects of your loss. You cannot wonder that such should be the case,
for your congregation is, in a peculiar manner, made up of members
drawn together by personal attachment to you ; admiration of your
eloquence attracting them to the church, and love of yourself settling
them there. Your endeavor has always been to make them good
Christians, rather than sectarians. Is it strange then that, if any have
previously had a preference for another form of worship, they should
desire to return to it now that you have left.^ "
In 1848 he received an attractive invitation to a new
Presbyterian enterprise in Baltimore, which was declined.
In the same year he delivered the Oration before the Phi
Beta Kappa of Dartmouth College. It may be well to add
that, in each congregation, Dr. B's affectionate nature would
lead him to take into closest counsel some sympathizing
friend ; and as Mrs. Peter R. Livingston was at Rhinebeck, so
was Mrs. Langdon Elwyn in Philadelphia, a second mother.
Thus we reach in this memoir, what mathematicians call a
''special point;'' we mean the removal to Brooklyn as
stated supply to the Central Reformed Dutch Church.
Dr. Bethune had now attained the zenith of his fame, and
it will not be rash to say stood foremost among our popular
speakers. Facile princeps in his own denomination the
whole body of Christians were ready to do him honor. Not
only well known in various paths of literature, his influence
246 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
was constantly sought by political aspirants. " For a bit
of innocent mischief/' as Thackera}^ says, we present an
idea of the number and kind of communications which he
received and answered. First comes a formula, terse and
practical, to secure from a distinguished citizen his auto-
graph.
Rey. George Bethune, D.D. " New York, Oct. 29, 1819.
Dear Sir: I employ all my leisure time in the collection of a.uto-
graphs. I am a clerk in a wholesale house in this city, and am con-
sequently at work through the day. The evenings are mine ov/n.
Occasionally what is termed a dull day comes, when I may sit down
and follow mine inclination. Then I endeavour to possess myself of
the autographs of the great men of mine own and of other countries.
I have been thus employed for three months only ; during which time
I have heen very fortunate ; since I have obtained communications
from so great men as Pierpont, Tyng, Potts, Cone, Beecher, Magoun,
Sprague, and many more of like caliber. I have, too, the autographs
of Clay, of our own dear country ; and of Lamartine of France. The
former is, perhaps, one of the greatest men of our time. The latter, I
think, is the greatest, because the best, man, that has lived in France
since Lafayette. But this is a matter of opinion. I have the signa-
tures of some twenty of the most celebrated clergymen, of all denomi-
nations, excepting one, in this country. I am sorry that I could not
attend upon your anniversary address last evening. You will receive
this communication from a member of your church with whom I am
acquainted. If it shall be your pleasure to transmit your autograph
to me, through him, or in any other way, I shall be much obliged.
Assuring you of ray respect and esteem, I have the pleasure to be
respectfully yours,
J. T. P .
My address is No. 1 Rutger's Street, in this city."
At the risk of wearying our readers we shall try to give
some idea of the demands made upon a popular preacher's
time, outside of the duties of his office. The following ap-
plications were made to Dr. Bethune in the course of a
MULTIFARIOUS DEMANDS. 247
year. Nine literary societies of different colleges request
addresses ; two theological societies ask similar favors ;
the Clmrcli at Saugerties asks a sermon at the laying of
corner-stone at Harlingen, and at its dedication ; that of
Southwarkj a lecture to pay its debts ; and that of Geason,
a charge to its new pastor ; and six other churches desire
sermons upon various grounds ; one person wishes him to
come to Marbletown and preach for a cliurch that is yet in
the womb of the future ; four Tract, two Bible, four Sun-
day school, one Sabbath, and three Colonization Associations
put in their claims ; fourteen Institutes, or Lyceums, de-
mand lectures. Of more important claims, the New England
Society, the Union Safety Committee, American Dramatic
Fund Association, Demonstration of respect to Mr. J. Fen-
nimore Cooper, and the Smithsonian Institute, each has a
place. Only one Seamen's Friend Society calls for help, but
the people at Biloxi, Miss., have devised a subscription plan
which Dr. Bethune is to advance ; one young minister
would like instruction in the art of reading ; Dr. K.
wants a sermon printed ; Mrs. 0. appeals for the Or-
phan Asylum ; the young ladies of Heidelberg Hall would
be entertained ; the steamer Lafayette needs a speech on its
trial trip ; the biographer of Eev. \7alter Colton petitions
for material ; a stranger requests a copy of Fourth of
July Address ; Mr. R. heard Dr. Bethune lecture two
years ago, and thinks that sufficient basis on which to
demand an introduction to Hon. Daniel Webster; a dis-
ciple of Coke and Justinian, who quotes Latin freely,
pleads for a copy of address ; an illegible writer from Keo-
kuk has something to say about his son George and West
Point ; a youth in the Navy wishes Dr. Bethune to have
him ordered on shore ; the Teachers and Friends of Educa-
248 MEMOIU OF GEO. \>\ EETHUxNE, D. D.
tion at Somerville, N. J., want to hear the Brooklyn pastor ;
Mr. B. wants Dr. B. to give a sermon, as the petitioner
is unable to do it ; Mr. Y. wishes to lecture before a
Sunday school Association, for purposes of his own, and
the Doctor is to help him ; the Navy man appears again ;
a gentleman of Wihnington, Delaware, wishes aid in pub-
lishing a book that will enable him to support and educate
two dear little boys ; the Literary World defines its posi-
tion and asks support ; J. C. Guldin desires to know what
is the date of Paraeus' lectures on Ursinus,, owned by Dr.
B. ; a cautious architect would find the prevailing taste of
a congregation for which he is to design a church ; Rev.
Dr. B. is introduced, a missionary whom Dr. Bethune
is to entertain in the German tongue ; Mr. H. leaves
his MSS. for recommendation and criticisms, and the Min-
nesota Historical Society desire this overworked man to
come and see them. The list might be continued up to one
hundred and fifty requests for important aid in the space of
a twelvemonth ; and they come up from all parts of the land,
from Maine to Georgia, and from the Atlantic far beyond
the Mississippi.
BROOKLYN TUOrOSALS. 249
CHAPTER X.
NEW CHURCH BROOKLYN. — GOES ABROAD.
The middle of May, 1850, brought another change to Dr.
Bethune, and one that has already been slightly men-
tioned. The steps towards this change are peifectly well
described in the original papers :
J. H. Brower and others, to Dr. Bethune.
"Brooklyn, Maij 15, 1850.
Keverend and Dear Sir: After much reflection, and we trust
under the guidance of the great Head of tlie Church, we have consid-
ered it our duty to lay before you in form the following suggestions and
overtures.
You cannot but be aware of having a number of friends, who ear-
nestly and sincerely desire your permanent settlement in this city. As
a nucleus, and to make a basis of action, we have taken it upon our-
selves to call upon you in this way, in the hope you may consider our
overtures, and that the Supreme Director may guide your steps
hitherward.
While the city of Brooklyn is proverbial for the many and well-sup«
ported churches of several denominations, it must be manifest to you
that those of our denomination have not been conspicuous, nor emi-
nently successful among them. It may not be well to venture upon any
reasons for this ; but, seeing the fact, rather to seek the path of duty, to
the end, with God's blessing upon our efforts, that our church may find
a more elevated position, and larger sphere of usefulness in the cause of
the Redeemer.
We cannot but feel it was through God's merciful interposition you
came to Brooklyn, and for several months past have so faithfully minis-
tered in spiritual things to all of us, and many others, whereby an ex-
piring lamp has begun to burn brightly, and to give promise of still
better days. It is true we cannot yet present ourselves to you in the
250 me:uoir of geo. w. eethune, d. d.
matured strength Ave could wisli, but remembering that the Saviour took
little children in his arms and blessed them, we rely in faith upon a
blessing in store for us, if we prayerfully seek it, and for His glory
combine our works with our faitli.
Our already large, and still rapidly increasing population, its marked
church-going character, and highly creditable observance of the Sabbath
and the sanctuary, seem to lay before us an ample field for our success ;
therefore, while we aim to include the congregation of the Central
church, we propose, for obvious reasons, to take up an entirely new en-
terprise and church organization, under your pastoral charge (if you
■will authorize it) and without any unnecessary delay, purchase a proper
location, procure the necessary plans to be adopted, (all with your good
counsel and approval) and erect a church edifice. Towards the cost of
all this, we are prepared to guarantee, by our own subscriptions, and of
such others as we may be enabled to associate with us, a sum of not
less than twenty-five thousand dollars ; and, we may add, as the result
of our deliberations, we have strong confidence that any debt which may
remain upon the property, will be paid off" within a reasonable time after
it shall be ready for occupation.
We have also deliberated upon the necessary provision to be made
for your own support in the settlement proposed, and feel ourselves jus-
tified in naming the sum of four thousand dollars per annum. If this
latter suggestion may seem to you as abruptly approached, or out of
place at this early stage of our overtures, we pray you will excuse it,
when we say, we have felt it to be a connecting link in the chain of our
duty, to assure you of our disposition and determination to provide a
comfortable and cheerful fire-side for our spiritual teacher, while a
bountiful Providence affords such to ourselves.
Having now laid the desires of our hearts and purposes of our hands
before you, we cheerfully leave ourselves to your prayers, and the an-
swer you shall receive from on high, and subscribe ourselves. Rev-
erend and Dear Sir,
Very faithfully, your friends and servants,
J. H. Bkower.
A. L. Reid.
John T. Mo gee.
Gerrit Smith.
B. B. Bltdenburgh."
EUROPEAN TOUR. 251
A favorable repl}^ was sent, and now that a new church
was to be erected involving- large responsibilities, it seemed
a good occasion for another tour to Europe, which would
benefit his health, and strengthen him for future toil. On
the 28th of June, he sailed in the Atlantic, and we have
the following' record of his progress :
"Edinbuegii, yl»^. 14, 1850.
On leaving Liverpool, I went almost immediately to Ashbourne, near
Dovedale, the scene of the Second (Cotton's) part of the Complete
Angler. You will see by reading it over, that he (Cotton) comes across
Viator and brings him to his house. Places on the road there are de-
scribed, or at least named ; there also is Dovedale, so called from the
river Dove {i. c. in Saxon white, whence our word for the bird), which
flows between high hills or mountains lying close together ; it is
a strikingly beautiful and, in places, sublime, ravine. Towards the head
of Dovedale stands Beresford House, the residence of Cotton the Ang-
ler, where he entertained Father Walton, and put him to sleep in a bed-
room, the chimney-piece of which was carved on each side, Avith the in-
itials of his and Walton's name. Now, over this, to me, classic ground,
I went step by step, and, strange to say, found that I knew much more
about the olden times of the country than the people themselves. I for-
tunately fell in with Shipley, the Angler, whom I knew by his book,
which 1 have had for several years. He is a barber, who has just got
£ 300 a year by the will of his uncle, the late Vicar of Ashbourne. I
found Beresford Hall in a most shocking condition, all, in fact, in ruins,
except a few rooms ; I looked for the chimney-piece (spoken of above),
but it cannot be found ; I did find, however, the fragments bearing
date 1G56, and have got enough wood from each of them for a landing
net handle. Shipley promises that he can get for me the iohacco box of
Izaak Walton, which he says has been in a family he knows of for two
generations. He may be mistaken, but if I acquire it, what a relic it will
be.
From Ashbourne I came through Derby to York, a most interesting
old city ; old walls, old churches, old houses, on every side. The Min-
ster tar exceeded all my imagination of it. Could we have such Gotliic
buildings, I should no longer oppose the task. From York I came to New
252 MEMOm OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. 1).
Castle on Tyne, where I lingered for a day, rummaging Grant's old
book-shop ; he is a fine example of an enthusiastic biblio-maniac. Last
night I came here, and to-morrow go to Glasgow."
"Bristol, Auff. 28, 1850.
Vv'inchester, where old Izaak Walton is buried, is like an old romance,
with its Cathedral, very beautiful, and presenting the Qifferent styles of
the different periods in which its several parts were built, and its col-
lege cloisters, and other ecclesiastical buildings hid away in labyrinths of
green, and under avenues of old trees, while the city is built around
them. I have never seen anything so full of past times ; Salisbury in a
great measure partakes of the same characteristics. The Cathedral is
line ; the spire, I believe, is thought to be the finest in England, but I
do not like it so well as Winchester."
" Amstesdam, Sej^t. 4, 1850.
Sunday I spent in Rotterdam, and had the pleasure of attending Di-
vine Service, without understanding more than a thousandth part of
what was said ; but it would have done your heart good to hear the
Dutchmen sing, with the noble, though not vrell-played, organ accom-
panying them. It vv'as really like the voice of many waters.
I am very glad that I have set out on this tour through Holland, for it
is very interesting to me. The only drawback to my satisfoction (be-
sides my not being able to understand Dutch) is the expense; it is
quite as dear as England, and, to one not knowing the language, perhaps
more so.
On Monday I went up the lower branch of the Rhine to Arnheim,
which is really a Dutch paradise. The place is not large, perhaps
15,000 inhabitants, and it was formerly fortified so as to be one of the
strongest towns in the Low Countries, but now all these ramparts are
turned into public walks, which are delightfully arranged and kept Avith
the utmost skill. I saw one or two country-houses, the grounds of
which were quite as well cared for as any in England. From Arn-
. heim I came to Utrecht so famous in the history of these extraordinary
people ; saw a small but good collection of paintings ; the place, now a
college hall, in which the union of Utrecht was signed, that union was
the pattern of our union of the states, looked over the Cathedral
wliich has been shaken by storms and spoiled by modern improvements
PAUL potter's bull. 253
so-called ; wandered tlirough Ihe streets amusing myself wiih the
people's queer costumes some of them seemed quite as much amused
with mine, and spent hours in the delicious, public pleasure-grounds,
extending like those of Arnhcira all round the city,— woods, water and
rich green grass. Amsterdam is so much larger than any other
of the cities of Holland that it presents of course far more objects of
interest."
" Among other things that I have seen, is the famous bull painting by
Paul Potter in the collections at the Hague. It ranks in pecuniary
estimate as the fourth picture in the world. It is very large and the
figures the size of life. The bull stands in the foreground of a Dutch
meadow, the distance of which is admirably given ; an old man, the
herd, stands beside a tree ; a placid looking cow is chewing her cud,
with her broad, honest face towards you ; two or three sheep are in
different positions, and the young bull stands easily out, looking calmly
in your eyes ; but in the cow, the sheep, and particularly the bull, the
imitation is so complete that it seems as if every hair was painted
separately, this, too, without sacrificing the main effect to the detail.
It were worth a voyage to Europe to see that picture alone. There are
other fine pictures in the same gallery, but, with the exception of a
Virgin and child by Murillo, and a somewhat shocking school of
anatomy, representing a professor dissecting a dead body, I can re-
member only the bull.
I have also seen and heard the famous organ at Haarlaem, and truly it
is a wonderful instrument, though not well played by the present
organist, who gets five dollars every time it is exhibited. The vox
humana stop, so called from its being meant to resemble the human
voice, from the highest treble to the deepest bass, startles you with its
life-like tones. The organ is now flourisliing much, on its former claims
to be the largest and best in the world; but the one at York Minster is
now the largest, and the organ at Fribourg excels in the vox humayia.
Both are upon the whole better instruments. By the way, the ladies
of Haarlaem are eminent for beauty. Haarlaem is throughout a
beautiful city; and the environs, more than most of the towns of
Holland, are delightfully arranged with woods and water where the
people make their promenades on foot or in carriages during the
254^ MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
summer, and in sleighs and on skates during the winter. In one of
Washington Irving's books (the 'Tales of a Traveller, I think) you
will find a description of the village of Broek, the cleanest place in the
world ; no carriages can enter its streets, no one is allowed to ride a
horse, to smoke at nights or during the day without a cover to his i)ipe
to prevent the ashes from falling. The houses have each one grand
parlor which is never open but for a marriage, a christening, a burial
or some great family festival ; if the last, the front door is not opened,
but only for the three former. It is wholly a dairy village, and the
cows' stables are as clean as the cleanest house ; they are scrubbed with
the greatest care, the cows themselves are rubbed down and their tails
tied up. It being only September the cows are now in the fields, and
the inhabitants make their summer quarters in the stables. I saw one
family eating their dinner in a stall. The multitude of round Dutch
cheeses, looked like a store of cannon-balls in an arsenal. The road
to Broek is along the great ship canal cut by Napoleon from the
Texel to Amstel, the river on which Amsterdam is situated.
The canal is considerably lower than the sea, the road lower than the
bank of the canal, and the farms lower than the road : a single burst of
the dyke would flood the whole country. The churches, as to their
appearance during service, are very strange. The Dominie preaches
without a gown, but wears bands, in some cases a band, or rather
the two sewed together. During the j)rayers and the singing the
men put off their bats, but when the sermon begins they generally
put them on.
The collection is taken during the sermon, and in one instance they
came round twice in succession. The prayers are extemporaneous,
and the sermons terribly long. The ministers preach with earnestness,
but in a pompous, heavy tone. All that I could distinctly make out
from one of them was ' Baul and Paanabaas.'
The great churches (like cathedrals) have a separate division for
marriages, and one day, in Amsterdam, I had the luck of seeing a grand
wedding. About a hundred spectators seated themselves in the pews
along the outer pannelling encasing the marriage chapel; within was
a separate space enclosed, a sofa placed at one end, with perhaps
fifteen chairs on each side forming a semi-circle where the friends of
the bride and groom took their places with most studied solemnity;
DUTCH WEDDING. 255
the organ played beautiful variations on dolce concenio. The minister
ascended the pulpit, immediately in front of which was an inclined
plane rising towards it, covered with a rich carpet; and under the pulpit
a piece of embroidery with flowers in the centre and two most ominous
looking dogs, not billing, but turning their heads from one anotlier, as
if in a sort of Dutch pet. The Dominie then made a long speech to the
bride and groom still sitting on the sofa. Then a very long prayer, and
then he told them to ' stand oop,' and they came to the part of the plane
where llierc were two crimson ottomans to kneel on. Here they read
from the book for some time, and exchanged vows without a ring.
Then he bade them kneel, and the groom, who had been standing on the
left of the bride, changed places wath her, and knelt on her right, she
kneeling also; then a long prayer again, and the benediction, after
which the two sextons, Avho had been standing on each side under the
pulpit, each advanced with a huge tin box, looking like half of a small
mill-stone, and presented it to the bride and groom for their presents,
then to the friends, and then took their station at the door to try from
all the company, getting from me the magnificent sum of ' ein stuyver,'
almost two and a half cents.
During the whole service there was neither a smile nor a tear, and
the Dominie appeared to be going through a burial service, his tones
expressive of sorrow rather than joy, and the organ wound up with
* old Hundred.' The groom was a Count something, perhaps fifty years
old, and the bride an old maid of forty, so that ' old Hundred ' was very
much in place. She was dressed with a while lace hat, a splendid
cashmere shawl of a white ground, a richly-figured pearl-colored silk
with a flounce of lace a foot broad. My man told me that there was a
breakfast set out in a room adjoining the church, and that the groom
must have spent on the organist, tlie Dominie, the attendants, and the
breakfast at least a thousand guilders ($415); but added he, Madame
a beaucoup d'argent.' He says that the Dominie was so long about it
because he was well paid, but that he would marry thirty poor couple ia
a quarter of the time. It is certainly a formidable business to ^et
married in Holland.
You would be much amused with the costume and habits of the work-
ing wom.en. They all wear short gowns and petticoats, and white cap with
a broad frill, and most of tliem adorn their heads with plates of silver,
and more often of gold, with a variety of chains and pendents. These
256 MEMOIK OF GEO. W. BETHUNE. D. D.
ornaments are handed down as heirlooms, and are sometimes of great
value. The women in this city carry burdens in baskets suspended
from their shoulders, by such yokes as the milkmen in New York used
to carry their cans, and when a little hurried they have the most funny
swing from one side to the other, for all the world like a fashionable
lady's wriggle. You cannot tell, from behind, a young girl from an old
woman, for they are as alike in waists as they are in dress, and often
w^hen you think you are passing some overgrown grandmother, the fair,
rosy face, and laughing eyes of sixteen, turn upon you. Their child-
liood certainly runs to waist, and the multitude of their balloon-like
petticoats, put to shame all the exaggeration of abustling world."
"Bremen, Sept. 11, 1850.
I have visited the only curiosity in this place worth seeing. On the
market-place stands an old and beautiful building, the Rathhaiis or
Senate House, the freizes of which, in front, are sculptured with emblem-
atical devices of Christian and Pagan Mythology strangely inter-
mingled, and at the side there are statues of princes, and an emperor.
In the market-place, front of it, stands a statue of Roland, eighteen feet
high, the date of which I could not ascertain, but it is emblematical of
the power which the senate of this little state of Bremen (about 60,000
souls) once claimed as a free city, and still professes to claim in a con-
siderable degree.
It has been the pride of the senate to preserve, in a deep cellar under
the Rathhaus, quantities of Rhine wine, some of which has attained a
great age ; huge casks full are ranged throughout the cellar, but in one
chamber there are twelve casks marked with the name of the twelve
Apostles, the wine of Judas being the best, because wine is treacherous.
Another chamber is called the Rose, from a huge rose being painted on
the ceiling, with an inscription in Latin, to the effect, that *as without
love the joys of wine were imperfect, and without wine Venus herself
would grow cold, so the Rose of Venus should preside over the
treasures of Bacchus.' I drank from curiosity a glass of the wine
(Rudesheimer) which bore the most ancient date 1625, 224 years old,
but the wine of 18-16 pleases my palate better."
" Hamburg Sept. 22, 1850.
In the afternoon I came to Hanover by the railroad. It is a pretty
town, but without much to attract a stranger, but I had the great
HAMBURG AND DRESDEN. 257
satisfaction of seeing and hearing the people mob Haynau, the Austrian
butcher of the Hungarians. You will have seen in the papers an
account of liis being mobbed in London, when he went to see Barclay's
brewery; he had been in Hanover two weeks before and was not
disturbed, but received attentions from the King; after his affair in
London, he fled to Hanover, and the people, excited by the news from
London, rose in a crowd, drove him from the theatre and endangered
his life, so that, escorted by the police at five o'clock this morning, he
fled to Hesse Cassel, where he will probably have no better fate. It
serves him right, the wretch that flogged women !
Hamburg, in the quarter where I am lodging is very beautiful. The
Alster, a small river, is led into a large basin perhaps five hundred
yards wide, forming a square, along the sides of which are many hand-
some houses built after the great fire in 1842. As I look out from my
high window I see the clear water, brilliant with the reflection of a
thousand lights, and with boats on the surface, freighted with gay
parties, music from the pavilion on the further side sweeping down on
the gentle wind, and such music as only a German band or orchestra
can make. It is also very amusing to see the pretty Vrieland girls in a
picturesque costume, a round hat turned up broadly at the sides, so as to
make them liigher than the crown, a laced boddice of some gay color,
and very short petticoats setting off their trim legs in deep red stockings
to great advantage: they are the Vrielanders, the market-people
of Hamburgh. The servant-maids are also objects of curiosity, for it is
a pride of theirs, and of the families with whom they live, to dress very
showily ; and they carry a box under their arms to contain the articles
sent by them, which is always covered by a neat shawl."
" Dresden.
I went to Leipsic. Half a day was enough to exhaust all that was
really curious in that town, which has its celebrity from its trade, and a
great battle once fought near it, and yesterday, at four p. m., I arrived
here. Last evening the moon shone brightly, and I made the best of it
in rambling over the town. To-day I have spent entirely in the
palace, which is crowded with precious curiosities, and in the glorious
picture-gallery. In the last I hope to spend to-morrow, perhaps part
of Monday. It far exceeds the gallery at Berlin, excellent as that is.
I promised myself to give you some account of w^hat is to be seen in
Berlin, yet scarcely know where to begin or where to end. There is no
17
258 MEMOIR OF GEO. AV. BETIIUIsE, D. D.
describing a picture — llo^v can the words of a pen give the exquisite
sentiment of Carlo Dolci, the serene holiness of Raphael, the coloring
of Rubens, the shadows of Rembrandt, the grace of Correggio, or the
natural truth of Gerard ?
Yet upon all these and many other very eminent masters, with some
admirable IMurillos and Claudes, I feasted myself until I was delirious
with delight, intoxicated to confusion with enjoyment. Of course I shall
remember comparatively few, but those few can never be forgotten.
Among those noted, I was particularly struck by ' The angel opening
the door of Peter's dungeon.' It is large, the figures the size of life;
light streams in from the opened door upon the form and face of Peter,
who is awaking with a mixed expression of surprise and confusion, yet
no timidity; a holy joy in his mission beams from the angel's counte-
nance as he beckons the apostle forth. It is by Gerardo del Notti.
There is also a large landscape by Salvator Rosa, finer than anything I
have ever seen of that artist. But I am out of patience with myself for
attempting to describe my impressions in that gallery, and I shall cease.
There is however, a monument by a modern sculptor, l^auch, at
Charlottenburgh which alone is worth going a thousand miles to see. It
is of the late Queen of Prussia and her husband the King. It is placed
within a little Doric temple, in a retired part of the gardens about the
little palace at Charlottenburgh. The light is most admirably managed,
being let in from windows near the roof; some blue panes in the
porch soften the light from the interior, so as to give the sculpture
the very best advantage. The King and Queen each recline upon a
Grecian couch, the couches being perhaps six feet apart. He is clothed
in his uniform, his cloak thrown loosely around him, hiding the stifihess
of our modern costume, his head is bare, and he lies as tranquilly as if
reposing after fatigue. His countenance is most life-like and serene ; but
the figure of the Queen so absorbed me that I had little time for the
King's, fine as it is. She was in life eminently beautiful and eminently
good. The sculptor (except that he has made both statues one foot
larger than life,) has represented her as she was. She lies with her
face upwards, a face of Avonderful loveliness and, even in sleep, full of
sweet, pious gentleness. Her form is exquisite in proportion, and
is draped in a simple night-dress, the arms bare, but otherwise covered
to the neck. Her lower limbs are crossed, and her hands laid meekly,
BERLIN. 259
but most naturally, upon her bosom. So naturally is the drapery
wrought, that, at a little distance I could not distinguish (at first)
between the marble and the white cloth Avhich the attendant had removed
on our coming in, and rolled up at the foot. On each side of the statues
is a rich candelabrum with figures around the shaft, one representing the
Graces, the other the Fates, the countenances of each expressive of
grief. All around the freize of the temple are texts of Scripture (in
German) very well chosen, and above a little altar-shaped table, is a
fresco representing the Saviour on a throne, and the deceased King and
Queen kneeling, and laying down their crowns at his feet, — the in-
scription— *I am the Lord, and besides rac, there is none else.'
Rarely, I may say never, have I had a deeper impression made upon me
than by the whole monument, especially the figure of the Queen. I was
silent for an hour after I left the building, following my guide about the
grounds almost unconsciously.
At Leipsic I saw the church from Avliich Luther thundered. The
church has been altered Avithin a few years past, but the pulpit is sa-
credly preserved in a little closet by itself. It is nearly round in
shape with some carving of a poor kind. I also drank a glass of
Rhine wine in the cellar where Goethe laid part of the scene of his
Faust, and where Faust and, afterwards, Goethe himself, had ' kept it
up.-'
"Berlix.
At the great church here I attended service after the Lutheran
method, and listened to an exceedingly eloquent man. Of course I
could not make out all he said, but could see and feel that he was
most eloquent. His delivery was so good as to be a perfect study.
The congregation sung one or two German chorals extremely well, and
a choir of men and bovs chanted well, while the or^an was mairnifi-
cently played. On my way home I looked into another church and
saw a baptism. I was too late for the service of the EngHsh Chapel,
indeed, I prefer attending worship with the people of the town I am
in. It widens one's heart to worship with strangers the God and
Saviour we worship at home. The people have at least the appear-
ance of devotion, and it is not for us to judge the heart. How could I
doubt the earnest, solemn, rapt faces which were upturned to catch
the preacher's words, or bowed down in prayer; afterwards beam-
260 MEMOIU OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
ing with fervor as they joined in a grand chorus of two thousarid
voices. The rest of the Sabbath is a holiday, as you know, on the
Continent rather than a holy day, and it pained me to think that the
impressions made by the sermon of the morning were to be effaced by
the amusements of the evening. Far sweeter are our cjuiet Sabbath
evenings at home, and far better for the people. I must however say
for Berlin that externally it is one of the best-regulated cities I have
ever seen. The hack carriages, porters, and even the hotels are
under a very strict and just system, so that one who knows the rules
need never be cheated. After ten o'clock at night the streets are
almost deserted and no impropriety of any kind permitted. As yet I
am unprepared to give you any description of what I have seen. Six
hours w^ere consumed at Potsdam, the summer residence of the king,
where there are several palaces, among them the famous San Soitci,
built by Frederick the Great to shew that after all the cost of the
Seven Years' Wai% he was still very well provided with money. The
grounds were very extensive. I must have driven and walked miles
upon miles through them. They are crowded with statues and
fountains and parterres of rich flowers, showing that enormous
wealth has been lavished upon them, though often in bad taste."
"Prague.
I was greatly delighted with Dresden. As a city it is not well
built, but beautifully situated, and after the monotonous flat countries
I have been in for weeks, the hills which encircled it, the sides of
which are mostly covered with vineyards, had quite a refreshing look.
But the charm of Dresden is its picture-gallery. There is, to be sure,
in a range of apartments connected with the palace (called the
Green Vaults), an immense collection of precious things, gold plate,
jewels, and articles of curious, costly workmanship ; and in another pal-
ace a very precious and most extensive collection of porcelain, Chinese,
Japanese and European ; in fact, a complete history of earthen-ware in
the ware itself, near which is a small collection of antique sculpture
&c. All this ] went through, besides looking at the curiosities of the
Royal Library and the rooms of the palace, yet I consider the time
spent among these as more than lost, as it diminished my time of en-
joyment in the gallery. The gallery is an extensive but mean
building, yet within it are rich treasures, perhaps the richest out of
Italy. First among the foremost is the Madonna of Raphael, called
THE ST. siSTixr: madonna. 261
the St. SIstinc from the Pope, who is represented in it. It is very
large and the figures of colossal size. The Virgin, holding in her arms
the divine child, has descended upon a fleecy cloud, appearing to
Pope Sixtus, who kneels on her right, and St. Barbara, Avho kneels on
her left. The Pope, gazing up on his heavenly visitants, represents
the adoration of high intellectual faith. St. Barbara, turning her
head away, as it were, from the glory of the Presence, gives the ideal
of humble reverence. The figures of the Pope and Barbara are won-
derfully fine, and either alone would be a master-piece of art. At
the foot of the picture are two little cherubims or angels looking up
v/ilh beautiful rapture, and they are justly considered exquisite in
character and glow, but the charm of the picture, besides its beautiful
harmony, is the Virgin herself. Her feet scarcely rest even on the
cloud. She floats in air ; her position is upright, the child sitting up-
on her right arm. The child I do not entirely like. It is impossible
for art to represent Deity incarnate as a child, even more so than as a
man. Here Raphael in striving to give dignity has given rather stern-
ness ; but, oh ! the face of the Virgin. There is nothing to my eye so
lovely upon canvas ; far before the Madonna of the chair at Flor-
ence. I have gazed upon it for hours, and shall carry it away upon
my heart. That picture is really worth my whole journey. Besides
the Madonna, there are many gems, five or six favourites. Here is
the Magdalena of Correggio, a small picture, in which the Magdalen
in a drapery of blue reclines on the ground reading, her head resting
on her arm. You have often seen copies and engravings of it, but of
course all fall short of the sweet reality. I must confess, however,
some disappointment; delighted as I was, it did not come up to my
expectations. Here is also the Adoration of the Shepherds by Cor-
reggio, a large picture, in vdiich the light mainly comes from the
child, though the morning has broke, and the early dawn with the
supernatural light mingle together in a wonderful manner. You re-
member the same subject by Gerard at Florence ; this is a finer
picture in the judgment of artists, but the one at Florence comes very
near to it in my judgment. Here are also two heads of our Saviour
by Guldo Reni ; the one representing him breaking the bread, the
other covered with thorns ; both very, very admirable. There are
several other Guides, as well as Correggios ; a St. Cecilia, and the
girl with John the Baptist's head in a charger, both ranked very high.
262 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Caracci has here a head of our Saviour which is most divine, and
there is a capital Murillo, a Virgin and child, with that star-like char-
acter so peculiar to him. There is a profusion of Titians, Rerabrandts,
Rubens, Gerard, Douws, Synders and Potters, besides countless
others of inferior note (the catalogue was over 1000 ! !) . One of the
Douws is the sweetest, if not the best, of all his I have seen. It is a
sweet-faced girl holding a candle out of a window in a dark night to
pluck a bunch of grapes. His famous cat is here, a grey pussy sitting
on a window-sill so tranquilly that you can almost hear her purr. A
landscape by Ruysdael struck me as particularly excellent. But were
I to write a week I should not begin to finish the list of these glorious
things.
I had also at Dresden a great musical treat. I attended the Lutheran
church on Sunday morning, making one of a large congregation, of
perhaps three thousand persons. And how they did sing with all
their lungs the noble chorals in Avhich the Germans delight ; but on my
way home I looked into ilie (only) Catholic Church (the royal family
arc Catholics, but jiearly all the people Protestants) and there I heard
a mass performed in a style so grand and beautiful as to be entranc-
ing. The music is by the Chapel Master of the king. I have secured
a MS. copy of it and hope (D. V.) to hear some of its airs in my
own new church at Brooklyn.
This morning at five o'ck)ck I left Dresden for this place and have
been enchanted all day with the scenery. The Elbe passes the whole
way between mountains, and the scene on both sides is by turns, and
often together, magnificent and grand ; in fact this part of Saxony is
called Saxon Sv/itzerland, so much does it resemble the true land of
the Swiss. There is all along a constant succession or rather contin-
uation of views which exhaust all the terms by which we express
admiration. ' Sublime,' ' magnificent,' ' ravishing,' ' delicious,'
were the exclamations from those on our little deck in all languages.
The finest view is that near the Konigsburg or Royal Citadel ; but
there is another nearly as striking where the mountains present the
same sinuous appearance as the Palisades on the Hudson, but in this
superior, as, about a hundred feet from the top which rises precipitately,
the sides sloped to the shore covered with vin^s and verdure, studded
also with neat houses. As a whole I like it nearly as well as the
Rhine ; and, but for the toAvering pinnacled Alps, quite as well as any
VIENNA. 263
part of Switzerland except the Lakes. The sun was setting as Ave
took the rail ; but an hour after the full moon rose in sih'ering splen-
dor and shone upon the calm river and the mountains which line its
shores. Here, too, for the first time in Europe, I found railway cars
after our American fashion. Everywhere else that I have been they
use the coach-body cars, such as we rode in from London to Liver-
pool."
"Vienna.
I was greatly pleased with Prague as a city, though there is not
much besides the city itself to see. There are a few pictures in the
Wallenstein collection, but no great things. The city, however, is
very finely situated in a basin surrounded by hills along which are
old fortifications and walls ; and the view from one of the hills which
is named after Ziska, the great general of the Reformers in that section,
is one of the best I have ever had. I am rather disappointed in Vi-
enna, though it is undoubtedly a very fine city, and perhaps at this
season I do not see it to advantage. The streets are narrow and the
squares mean, the best houses being in the suburbs of the city.
Then there are undoubtedly some good buildings. The picture-gal-
lery (royal) and another private collection are large, and contain
some very good things. There is an exquisite Madonna and child by
Raphael; one of the best Cuyps I have yet seen, and very many
Rubens, and some of the Dutch school, of which I am not so fond as
I am of the Italian. By the way, in coming from Prague here I fell
in with a Hungarian, Avho told me that he had wished to go to America
after having been compromised by the insurrection. When he found
that I was an American, of the North, as they call us, he told his little
girl to kiss my hand."
" Vienna.
1 went by railroad to Presburg (perhaps sixty-miles) which I
reached in the dark and where my first experience of a Hungarian Inn
was far from agreeable ; but the steam voyage down the swift Danube
made up for my inconveniences. Not far from Presburg was the scene of
a great battle between the Austrians and Hungarians in which the latter
were victorious ; and about half way to Pesth is the little city of Como-
ru whose fortress under Klapka held out to the last and was surrendered
only upon the best terms, after the Hungarians had been everywhere
else scattered. I had the good fortune to find several veiy a^-reeable
264 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
fellow-passengers and my being an ' American of the North ' secured
me some attention, partly because we are rare birds here, partly be-
cause we showed some sympathy for the Hungarians, and partly be-
cause they were curious to know more of our country and its insti-
tutions. Comoru is not, as one might suppose, a fortress on a high
rocky precipice, but on a plain, with the Danube on one side and ex-
tensive marshes on the other. The towns and villages and farms for
many miles still show melancholy traces of war. Austria is now com-
pletely dominant and the Hungarians are made to feel it in various
ways. They all spoke sadly of their country, and many said ' All is
lost.'
Between Comoru and Pesth the river cuts its way through a fine
range of mountains and some have thought that the scenery was
equal to the best part of the Khine ; but it is not so, nor is it equal to
the Elbe from Dresden to Lobositz, though it is very fine. My win-
dow at Pesth commanded the Danube, over which is thrown a mag-
nificent suspension bridge, perhaps the finest in the world, and the
old city of Buda with its mountains on the opposite sides. It so hap-
pened that, during the night, a large steam mill on the Pesth side was
burned to the ground, and the glow upon Buda and its rocky hills made
the scene very grand : indeed I do not remember anything that I
have seen (at night) so much so. My return from Pesth was very un-
comfortable. The current of the Danube is so rapid that it requires
twice the time to ascend that it does to descend."
" Munich.
Notwithstanding the storm I really enjoyed the scenery up the
Danube to Lintz ; in some respects the storm improved it, giving a
yet wilder grandeur to the mountain ridges, and old ruined castles
along the shores. The environs of Passau, a little city at the junction of
the Inn with the Danube can seldom be surpassed for beauty and va-
riety ; while the road, for miles after leaving Passau, runs along a ridge
between the two rivers, giving a magnificent view on either side.
The country reminded me sometimes of Switzerland, sometimes of
home. The houses are Swiss, but the abundance of wood and rail-
fences, with many other things, seem like America. All the way I was
obliged to speak German, and my German is very ridiculous. My ex-
pectation was to reach here by midnight on Saturday, but the condi-
tion of the roads kept me back until late on Sunday morning much to
MU?:iCH. 265
iny regret ; but it was impossible to stop as there was no place of
refuge nearer than this, and our postillions compelled us to go on.
As yet I have seen little of Munich, but enough to astonish me with
the very great contributions to science and art made by the late king,
who was two years ago compelled by the people to abdicate his
throne in favor of his son, because, though an old man, he chose to
play the fool with that famous harpy, Lola Montez. Every part of
the city is crowded with monuments of his magnificent patronage of art.
Besides two very large and splendid churches, one built in honor of
his patron Saint Louis, the other to commemorate the fiftieth year of
Lis marriage (called by the Germans, the golden wedding), he has
caused to be erected a very large building for sculptures, another for
pictures, another for an agricultural museum, another for the library,
the second in size in the world, another for the University, another
for a blind asylum, besides three palaces, triumphal arches, statues &c.
&c., &c. Xo one of these buildings, except the Blind Asylum, could
have cost less than a million of dollars, some of thera must have cost
much more. The Sculpture Gallery in its interior is the most beauti-
ful building I have ever seen ; paved throughout with tessellated mar-
ble, and each hall or room of a different pattern, adorned with fresco
paintings and stored with most precious monuments of ancient and
modern sculpture. The new palace contains a series of rooms dec-
orated in the most lavish style with frescoes and guilt bronze statues
and golden ornaments, and an entrance and staircase so splendid as to
seem like a dream of Oriental romance; though scarcely so beautiful,
and not so grand, as the staircase of his new library. Besides the
churches he has built entirely, he has given the stained glass windows,
nineteen in number, to a new church in the suburbs, which represent
the history of the Virgin Mary, and I may safely say there are no
windows in the world like them. To-morrow, should the weather
prove fine, there will be inaugurated with appropriate ceremonies the
statue of Bavaria in bronze, sixty-one feet high, the head of which
contains seats for eight people : it is placed between two beautiful
temples, each adorned with columns and sculpture in a lavish manner.
All these edifices are in pure taste of different orders, but chiefly
Greek. The entire expense must have been enormous. I have not
yet been in the picture-gallery, having spent the day in the sculpture
gallery ,^ the palaces and the churches. To-morrow I devote to the
paintings.
266 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
" COKSTANCE.
I wrote you that there had been erected a bronze statue of Bavaria
at Munich, sixty-one feet high ; on "Wednesday (the ceremony hav-
ing- been several times postponed on account of the weather) the statue
was displayed to the people, and it was the occasion of a great fete.
As it was erected by tlie ci-devant King Louis, who was compelled to
abdicate, the present king, his son, did not appear, but gave up the
honor of the day to the old man. The ceremony took place on an
immense parade ground outside the city, and at least 20,000 people
were present. A gay pavilion was erected for the royal party, and I
pushed through the crowd, until I got pretty near them. There was
a long procession of the several trades, each bringing some appropriate
contribution ; the military and civil bands playing all the while as
only a German band can play.
Before the statue there was a screen of boards completely hiding it
from view; when, after a burst of delicious music from the band, at a
sio-nal given, the screen fell down and the beautiful creation of genius
and taste stood before the multitude, who were silent in admiration
perhaps half a minute before they broke out in thundering cheers.
Then a short oration was pronounced, and several hundred men's
voices sang, accompanied by the band, an ode in honor of the oc-
casion. The whole affair lasted three hours, but was well worth the
fatigue it cost me. The figure represents a young maiden, draped in
a bear skin, with a wreath of vine leaves and wheat ears around her
head, a sheathed sword in one hand and a wreath of victory held
aloft in the other. Nowithstanding the immense size, the coun-
tenance is lovely, youthful and mild ; perhaps the proportions of the
form are a little too large, but the artist's design was to represent
Bavaria strong, The artist, Swanthaler, did not live to see his work
triumphant. His bust was borne in the procession with a guard of
honor."
''London.
It is at Antwerp that you see the very best works of Rubens, together
with some capital specimens of other, and older, Flemish masters. There
are especially, three pictures of Rubens, the Crucifixion, the Descent
from the Cross, and another Crucifixion (called, Christ between the
Thieves), which will remain in my memory as long as I live. The
Cathedral at Antwerp disappointed me, after those I had seen elsewhere.
THE CHURCH ON THE HEIGHTS. 267
Ghent is full of historical associations, and the streets, in many parts,
retain their antique appearance, so that it was not difficult to realize
that you were moving about the scenes where once figured the Van Ar-
tevelds and the other brave men of Ghent. The same is true, though in
a less degree, of Bruges and you may imagine what pleasure I had, fond
as I am of Netherlandish liistory, in going over the ground already so
familiar to me.
There are also some very nice old pictures by some Dutch, or rather
Flemish masters, whom I know but little of. Then it is no wonder that
I allowed one mail train after another to slip by, leaving me behind,
especially, as I care very little for England."
Meanwhile, the new church edifice approached comple-
tion. It was a massive structure, very rich in interior
adornment, admirably located, and will ever remain the best
monument to its accomplished pastor. Erected by Lefevre,
it was everything that could be desired in point of beauty,
but its cost far exceeded the original estimates. A parson-
age, according to Dr. Bethune's plan, was also erected by
the aid of some friends ; so connected with the church
that Mrs. Bethune, from her invalid couch, might hear and
take part in the service. The name assumed by the corpo-
ration was, The Church on the Heights. The regular call
for Dr. Bethune is dated, Nov. 25, 1851. It must have
been the triumph of ministeral success when this most
beautiful temple was completed and he was permitted to
dedicate it with the solemn service of his Liturgy to the
Triune God. At once it took a front rank in the city of
churches. Before this settlement was effected, another
very inviting proposition had been made to him.
C. Van Rensselaer to Dr. Bethune.
*' PuiLADELPHiA, April 16, 1850.
Mr Dear Doctor : My views as to the man who ought to be Chan-
268 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
cellor of the N. Y. Uniyersity are unchanged, that is to say confirmed.
Providence has now opened the way for his inauguration, which I have
no doubt will take place about the time of * Commencement.' If your
friends bring forward your name, the appointment will be nearly if not
quite, unanimous. No Episcopal layman will stand the shadow of a
chance. Whatever influence, however diminutive, I may have with
anybody, shall be cheerfully and dutifully given in the right direction.
I am, yours sincerely,
COUKTLANDT VaN ReNSSELAEK."
This election, as Chancellor of the New York University,
took place. The office was one of high honor, and affording
a grand opportunity of cultivating his literary tastes. The
students, hearing of the choice, had been in front of his hotel
cheering him for some time ; but the same evening came the
committee from the church in Brooklyn, and he who had
promised to preach the Gospel had no difficulty in making
his choice.
"New York, April 22, 1850.
Charles Butler, Esq.,
President of the Council of the New York University.
My Dear Sir : Having learned that I have been named in connection
with the vacant chancellorship of your Institution, by gentlemen for the
honor and kindness of whose preference I am deeply grateful, it is due
to the Council and myself that I should express my desire not to be con-
sidered as a candidate for this office. Yours very truly,
Geo. W. Bethune."
" Hotel St. Dekis, Dec. 4, 1852.
The Rev. Dr. Bethune's compliments to Mr. Ullman, and begs
to say, that the enclosed tickets for Madame Sontag's concert of last
evening, did not reach him until this morning.
Dr. Bethune has also to acknowledge a very courteous invitation, also
enclosed, to Madame Sontag's rehearsal on Saturday morning last, with
a polite offer of tickets for any of Madame Sontag's concerts.
In declining these invitations. Dr. Bethune only obeys a rule he has
LAST LETTER OF MRS. J. BETHUNE. 269
laid down for himself, never to accept gratuitous favors, which he can-
not hope in any way to reciprocate.
Dr. Betliune has been delighted in listening to Madame Sontag, and
hopes to have the same high gratification when the concerts come on
his disengaged evenings ; but he must he permitted to go in on the same
footing Avith the vast multitude, and contribute his mite to the aggregate
return of a grateful public for the very remarkable enjoyment Madam
Sontag's visit has brought to us here ; a return which he hopes may be,
if possible, as great as the amiable talent which calls it forth. Mr.
Ullraan will, therefore, pardon the request that Dr. Bethune's name may
be left oflP the free list altogether."
Dr. Bethune to Mrs. J. Bethune. "Boston, Feb. 1, 1850.
My Beloved Mother : I have come here from Providence this
morning, and have had my heart full of you, remembering that this is
your birthday. Dearest mother, how thankful I am to God for sparing
you to me, and to so much usefulness so long. Of all my blessings
next to those of the Gospel, I have always reckoned your prayers and
counsels and cares for me, among the chiefest. Repay you I never
can. Would that I could do more towards it ; but dear mother, you
know the deep, grateful, devoted affection, of your ever affectionate
son, George."
The foUowiDg is the last of Mrs. Joanna Bethune^s let-
ters to her son ; the excellent and noble lady's hand has be-
come very tremulous, but her love is as strong as ever :
" Nov. 15, 1852.
My Beloved Son : George McCartee mentioned at breakfast that
you proposed returning to the city this week. Now, my dear, I think
you had better delay it till the first of the week; you certainly could not
preach, or ought not, and the first of the week will be time enough. I
need not say how happy I will be to have you with me, but your health
is most to be attended to. lam pretty well, and so is George. With
love and respect to all with you, dear, dear son,
Your affectionate mother,
J. Bethune."
270 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Soon after this time Mrs. Bethiuie's brain softened, but
her son remained ever her faithful and tender guardian.
This seems a suitable place to say a few words of the
lectures, which our pastor was so often called to deliver
before learned bodies, or popular assemblages. His Phila-
delphia congregation had spoken with pride and satisfac-
tion of their pastor, as one who not only faithfully minis-
tered unto them, but went forth among all people, and was
useful every where. This was true, and had he accepted
all the invitations urged on him, he would soon have worn
out his health. An emphatic warning from his friend and
physician. Dr. Dunglison, caused him to be wise in time.
On one occasion he was asked to abate his price in regard
to the poor people of a country village. He writes in
reply :
" My Dear Sir : I regret being obliged to explain my note of the
6th. The invitations to lecture which I refuse, are ten times as many
as those I accept. Lecturing is disagreeable to me. I should greatly
prefer not to lecture at all, as it often interferes with my more sacred
duties, besides involving a very troublesome correspondence, and other
not slight annoyances. I am therefore compelled to adopt fixed rules, to
avoid affronting, by any partiality (as I have friends scattered here and
there over the country), and to get rid of as many lectures as I can. I set
my fee at $ 50, not so much witli the purpose of getting it, as to avoid
being asked to lecture anywhere. That ($ 50, with my expenses) is
the fee, or rather the lowest fee I have asked in answer to every request,
and is what I receive for every lecture I delivered this season, except
one, which I considered myself bound to give, by a last year's promise.
Besides, requests to lecture for charitable purposes, are sufficiently nu-
merous to keep me doing nothing else in lecturing, did I comply with
them all. It is sometimes the poor, sometimes a church, sometimes a
parsonage, etc., so that were I to deviate from my rule for one, I must for
all, and, therefore, I do it for none.
The fees I get for lecturing, enable me to do many acts of charity,
lecturers' fees. 271
such that I could not otherwise, and the demands on ray purse by the
poor of Brooklyn, are quite as heavy, I doubt not, as those of the poor
at Belleville on yours.
Another thing : where I am known, nobody will suspect me of being
under the pecuniary necessity, or of having the disposition, to drive a
bargain in such matters ; but I think it the more my duty, as I shall
not be suspected of mercenary motives, to contend for the right of in-
tellectual labour to its reward. You would not think it right to ask a
trader or a mechanic, to give fifty per cent, off his price, to the poor of
your place. You could make your poor very comfortable without going
out of your town, at that rate. Now think of it, my dear sir, have
you a right to ask Dr. D. or myself, or any one else, to do so, be-
cause our labour is intellectual, and not manual? I think of my breth-
ren far more than of myself in this matter, for most cheerfully would I
lecture at Belleville, for no other reward than the pleasure of obliging
my friends, if I could do so, as I said in my former note, ' consistently .*
In town, where they have had any experience of lectures, in New England,
especially, they have given over connecting cliaritablc purposes with
their causes, at least so far as the pay of the lecturer is concerned. If
money is needed for any town purpose, it would be more easy for each
one to pay double for his ticket, than to take half from the lecturer's
fee.
I have been thus explicit, that you may see clearly the reasons of my
former note. My lecture is not in any case worth what I ask ; but the
trouble it costs me is worth more at a fair rate.
And now my dear sir, having explained myself, I must ask you to re-
lieve me from my contingent promise to lecture at Belleville this season.
I cannot deviate from my rule, but, at the same time, I cannot think of
burdening a charitable purpose by demands of money for myself.
At some other time, when my mind is clearer, and my friends desire
it, I may have the opportunity of serving them at Belleville, but not
now."
A friend of Dr. Bethune, who, like the rest, puts in his
plea for a lecture or address, has the thoughtfulness to say,
" It must be no small task upon you merel}^ to reply to ap-
plications of a particular nature, especially at this season
272 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
of preparing for the Anniversaries, when Dr. Bethune is al-
ways put down, ' to be had, if possible.' ''
Dr. Bethune's own account of his lectures, is the best
that can be given :
Letter to Dr. Dunglison. "Brooklyn, Nov. 14, 1854.
The lectures I have ready, are what are called popular, that is, sepa-
rate lectures on miscellaneous topics ; for all the world like our quondam
Athenian Institute lectures. Thus I have one on ' Lectures and Lectur-
ers ' (an introductory), considering popular lectures and lecturers in an
amusing, but I hope not unserviceable, light. Another on ' Common
Sense,' which, by the way, is long enough for two, and a mixture of met-
aphysics and familiar illustrations. A third on ' V/ork and Labor; the
moral uses of the distinction between them ' ; the best of my lectures.
Another on ' The Orator of the Present Day,' originally a Phi Beta
Kappa oration for Brown University, inquiring into the secrets of tlie
orator's power, &c. Another on ' Oracles,' and another blocked out,
but not written, on Divination ; in both of which, I strike at the Spiritual-
isms (so-called) of the present day, while I give illustrations of the
subject itself. I shall try to write another during the winter, but am
not sure what on. Such are the lectures I have read, one or more in a
season, here, in New York, New Haven, &c., &c."
These lectures were delivered all over the land, and as
they did much to increase the reputation of the speaker,
besides affording substantial gain, it may be interesting
to know the subjects of those remaining unpublished :
" The Moral Opinions of the Ancients '' ; "Socrates, Pythag-
oras, and Plato ^' ; " Aristotle, Zeno, Epicurus '^ ; " Holland
and the Hollanders,^' two lectures, and very popular;
''Divination"; two lectures on "Epidemics,'' and one
on "False Estimates." It is hoped that a due selection
will be made for publication, as it would constitute the
most charming volume of Dr. Bethuue's, that has seen
the light of day.
PLATFOliM OKATORY. 273
I CHAPTER XI.
PLATFORM OUATORY.
This chapter is devoted to another specialty of Dr. Be-
thune. If there was one point in which he outshone his
compeers, it was in pkitform speaking ; such as was called for
at religious anniversaries, or in the discussion of important
public questions. His fluent oratory and quickness of rep-
artee would have made him an invaluable member of a po-
litical party, in either House of Congress. But he had more,
he had a sound, practical common sense, whicli commanded
the popular heart. Little justice can be done to this distin-
guished trait of our minister, in the short space allotted.
We can only present specimens that may illustrate his pow-
er. The first that we offer is a speech made in behalf of his
favorite Colonization scheme. His efforts in this cause were
frequent ; probably one speech was made every year after
his entrance into public life ; the key-note to them all is
found in his expression " From the bottom of my heart I hate
slavery", a feature that brought him earl^^ in his career
into fierce conflict with a distinguished Southern agitator,
Hon. Henry A. Wise. The speech quoted was made at
Washington, before the American Colonization Society, Feb-
ruar}^, 1850, Hon. Henry Clay being President.
" I am not in the habit of making apologies when I rise to speak,
because I tliink when one sees reason for not speaking, he should
hold his tongue. I should be lacking both in common sense and
common modesty did I not feel the difficulty of speaking upon a
18 '
274 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
question like this, at a time when everything relating to the
black race, coming otherwise than from a Southern man, is looked upon
with suspicion and jealousy. Not, sir, that I would hesitate to avow ray
own sentiments ; I would never live where I may not speak my consci-
entious opinions, but, sir, we are upon, as you have very justly said, a
common ground here to-night, where no advocate of this cause has a
right to compromise the Society by the expression of any individual opin-
ion which might clash with, or in any way seem to be antagonistic to the
opinions of others. I had, however, this consolation, sir, in coming here.
I knew, sir, if you will permit me to say, I knew that you would open
this meeting with some remarks. I anticipated that they would be short,
but falling from a mouth that never uttered a word without a meaning,
and whose one sentence is worth, in expression and force, more than a
hundred such as mine.
I was very sure that principles would be advanced and established,
behind which I might venture to speak. I have no more fear of the col-
lision of conflicting opinions, than I should fear the spray of the ocean
after it had dashed against the adamantine rock. It has been well said,
sir, by yourself and the gentleman who has preceded me, that this So-
ciety has suffered the most virulent opposition. It has been most truly
opposed by the fanatics at the North, and the fanatics at the South. I
call that man a fanatic, sir, who, under the influence of a perverted con-
science, allows malignity to take the place of benevolence ; who lets him-
self down to abuse without measure his honest and logical opponent ; and
is not willing to listen to reasons upon the question in which all are con-
cerned. I care not where that man lives, whether at the North or in the
South, in the East or in the West, he is a fana.ic, and he is dangerous,
just in proportion as he seems to himself to be conscientious, because
his false conscience assumes the aspect, and to a certain extent, the force
of right and duty. There is an opposite fanaticism, and the imitation of
the fanatic by those who have not the excuse, which vents itself in loud
words and earnest denunciations. That I fear not. The blusterer always
has been a coward, and is not to be dreaded by the wise man. Like the
bubble, he bursts with his own wind.
When we began this cause, sir, or at least some time after we began
it, after it gained sufficient strength to provoke the opposition of him who
moves the hearts of the children of evil, we find that the Society was
COLONIZATION SPEECH. 275
charged with doing absolutely wrong, wrong it was said to the cause of
the black man, because it took the free black away from the South in-
stead of permitting him to remain like a thorn and a fester in the sides
of those who were his brethren in bondage. This was charged against
it. Another was that we took away the black man who had been born
upon our soil, and who, by the arrangements of Providence who gave
him a birth-place here, had as much right to rest himself here as you.
We were told again, it was preposterous to talk of Christianizing the
continent of Africa, where such instruments were to be used; the refuse,
as was said, of the black race of the United States, Now, sir, what
has been the consequence ? What have we seen but this very remark-
able fact, that the same people who have opposed the Society, have
adopted the very measures for which they impeach the Society ? As to
the taking away the black man of the South, it is notorious that they
are doing it in various ways. It is notorious, also sir, that they have
endeavored to establish colonies, not exactly within the limits of the
United States, but through their assistance, and, to a certain extent,
liberal assistance, within the limits of the British Possessions on the
Continent ; and, in their efforts to colonize, have moved the black man
from the South, of which we were accused as a crime ; taking him
away from the soil he had a right to, and moving him away to the
North, sir, whose frosts are as hurtful to his constitution as the heats
of the South are to those of us who are born in the North. Nay
sir — nay gentlemen, and as I see my friends with ready pens by me,
I beg them to remember I speak of him with respect. I honor him
for being actuated by the very best intentions, however I might differ
with him in the manner in which he carries them out. I speak of Mr.
Gerrit Smith. Would to God his large heart was with us still. He
himself has offered his acres of wild land in the coldest section of
the State of New York for a colonization scheme. It seems then, sir,
that tliey have acknowledged tlie truth of the classic maxim, that ' it is
lawful to learn from an enemy,' for they have taken the first leaf out
of our book.
One thing, sir, we were told, we were reproached for endeavoring
to persuade the people of the United States that Africa was the proper
place for the black man ; that this land of Christian privileges was the
place to which Providence, who maketh the wrath of man to praise him,
276 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
had brought him, and here he had remained. It has been said that
ve could not evangelize Africa through the instrumentality of such
agents. What have they done, sir ? Do you not remember the his-
tory of the Amistad? God in his Providence sent them to our shores,
and these very people they sent back agtiin to Africa. Our oppo-
nents have patterned after us, and so far as they have proceeded, their
scheme is as much like ours as a badly managed scheme can be like
a good one for the same purposes.
Now here, sir, is the demonstration of it in the very mouths, in the
hands, of our most virulent opponents at the North in favor of out
scheme, and, sir, no doubt all the honest men there among them, will
be with us still. We were told on the other hand at the South, by
the fanatics there, it was preposterous to think of elevating the black
man ; God had made him inferior ; God intended him for a servant ;
it was flat flying in the face of Providence, to endeavor to make him
anything else, and that he never could succeed ; his whole history in
all the past, from time immemorial, had been that of degradation,
slavery, ignorance and misery : sir, the history is true ; such has
been the history of the black man, and I consider that amidst all the
wonderful events of this remarkable century in which we live, there is
none so remarkable as the present condition of the Republic of Liberia.
What has been the history of the black man ! That everywhere it
has been that of slavery, of degradation, of ignorance, even in Africa,
in his own native land, is perfectly notorious to all who know any-
thing of the subject. He is in the condition of a slave who holds his
life and all that he can call dear to him, at the will of his savage, des-
pot master ; but, sir, go back to that book which Providence, after
the lapse of thousands of years, has opened for us. We may read there
the records of his past history.
Go to the monuments of Egypt and you will find there the
black man a slave ; emphatically a slave. I believe you can scarcely
find an instance in which he appears upon those monuments, in
which he does not bear witli him tributes about his person, in
token that the people from whom he comes are subject to the Pha-
raohs of Egypt.
It is supposed that no one can make a calculation other than that of
a supposition. It is supposed, however, that over that vast continent
there can be scattered not less than a hundred and fifty millions ;
COLONIZATION SPEECU. 277
probably when we come to penetrate into its hitherto impenetrable
depths we shall find them to be one quarter more, judging by the
area, and by what we know of certain portions of it very recently
explored.
What has Africa been ? I speak not of that section of Africa that
was inhabited by other races. I cannot go into the romance of speak-
ing of Egypt and its people ; its kings, its philosophers, and its
saints. I know very well, sir, every one knows, they were under, I
speak of that portion of Africa inhabited by the black man, the woolly-
headed African, (laughter) and wherever he has these characteristics
he is in the deepest degradation ; at least so far as explored. He has
been for thousands and thousands of years so, and so far back that
history tells us no other tale. And that gentleman who has but re-
cently returned from Liberia, that gentleman who knows Liberia from a
long residence, will tell you that nowhere upon the face of the earth,
nowhere in time past or present has there existed, or does there exist,
a superstition so base, so cruel, so horrid, so re\olting, as that which
reigns over the minds and hearts of the native Africans.
It is true, sir, that the African has been always degraded ; always
been oppressed ; always been in ignorance. It might be thought, sir,
that one who had been crushed so long, could never rise, but like that
giant of old, of whom we read in classic fable, upon whom Etna was
put, his breast nmst be so bruised, his limbs so paralyzed by the long
pressure of the superincumbent weight, that he cannot erect himself
as a man, and take any place in the way of advancement and civiliza-
tion. But, sir, there is a light brighter than that of reason ; there is a
happy spring from a nobler source than that of passion ; there is the
light of religion and the light of promise shedding their rays far in
the future. What does that religion teach him ? I know no one who
has common sense will contend for the absolute equality of all men in
physical strength, in intellectual, in ability to advance in the career of
civilization. jSTo one contends for this ; I am speaking of those funda-
mental rights every roan has, or should be acknowledged to have.
God made the black man as well as you or me, and unless we give up
the Bible, which is the charter of our hopes, and the ground of our
faith, we must believe he came from the same original pair, and we are
brethren, brethren by the fiat of the Creator.
We cannot divorce ourselves from this fraternity, except we fling
278 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
off the devotion of our Father who is in Heaven ; when He who
spake as never man spoke, and who justified his sympathy with the
poor and the rich, and gave himself to the poor, when He repeated from
his divine lips the law of the ancient Israelites, and tells us we must
love our neighbor as ourselves. Pie told you, sir, he told me, he tells
all of us, that wherever a human heart beats, wherever a human heart
glows, wherever a man stands in the image of God, there is our neigh-
bor, whom we are bound to love as ourselves.
I care not where he is ; whether in China, whether in Africa, or
whether it be in America. I care not who claims rule over him ; he is
my brother ; he is my neighbor ; I am bound to love him, and God
will hold me accursed if I do not do this. Nay, sir, through the
teaching of God's Holy Spirit, I am taught my sins, and that there is
but one fountain open for sin and uncleanness. When I follow the
guiding of the Holy Spirit, and it leads me to the foot of the cross
whence springs a living fountain of divine blood shed for the lost,
the unworthy and the guilty, I find kneeling at the foot of that cross,
washing himself in that same sacred stream, as welcome to my Master
as myself, as readily admitted into the family of God as the highest
among the children of men ; I find the black man washed in the same
blood with me, sanctified by the same Spirit ; adopted by the same
God, and made heir of the same happy immortality. How dare I
refuse, how dare I refuse him all the strength of Christian sjnnpathy
and Christian benevolence ? I know not how, sir ; while that Bible
lasts I must follow it ; and, sir, it is upon this principle that the So-
ciety is acting.
We are, as you very justly observed, united by that simple article
of our constitution which covers him, and doubtless does cover persons
of different notions as a detail of its workings, and gives us a right to
differ ; makes us sovereigns in our own spheres ; while we are united
in the great object : but, sir, I do not go too far, I am sure you will
not refuse me permission to say, that the Colonization Society is
the combination of the true friends of the colored race in the
United States. I mean the friends of the black man who desire to
see him elevated.
Now, sir, what do we see in the year '93 and '94 ? I am not good
at dates, sir, but, somewhere about there, the negroes of St. Domingo,
the whole of the population of that island, or the greater part of it.
COLONIZATION SPEECH. 279
rose in revolt, and have endeavored to establish one ever since ; en-
deavored to form themselves into some sort of government. What do
we see? Take that monkey empire (laughter) that has been the
world's laughing stock ; look at the result of their plans : Faustin
I., with his cordon of dukes and nobles around him, so that there
can be scarcely a private man left in his dominions (laughter). There
is the result in one part. Compare it, sir, with the Liberian Repub-
lic. Compare it with the enlightened, free and intellectual exercise
of every principle and right that man can claim, moderated and held
from excess by the wisest restraints and the most salutary arrange-
ment. Sir, I do not believe there exists upon earth a government
whose constitution is more liberal, more enlightened, or more judi-
cious, having in it, we believe, the elements of greater permanence
than the Republic of Liberia. It is, sir, the black man ; it is not the
Avhite man ruling over him as in Sierra Leone. It is not the white man
forcing him on as in the British "West Indies.
jSTor is it the black man where the mixed race is flogging him and
chaining him, as Avas done in the beginning of freedom in the West
Indies. It is the black man governing himself, governing himself
according to written statutes ; governing himself with an enlightened
view of his own worth, his own dignity, his relations to his fellow-man,
and his confidence in the power and justice of God, who loves His
children, it were impossible to doubt it, who loves his children all
alike, and alike vindicates his mercy by the history of that race, as well
as our own.
ISTow, sir, there is the reply that we make to the fanaticism of the
South. Look at our Liberia, look at it, sir, we challenge investiga-
tion. The ships of almost every civilized nation have touched at its
port ; emissaries from our own country, or rather messengers, have
gone to examine into the existing state of things, and if testimony has
been unanimous to any nation, it is that in favor of the Republic of
Liberia. Nay, sir, it has been more than hinted at by the eloquent
gentleman who has preceded me. Great Britain has acknowledged
the superiority of our scheme over her own.
Since that, Clarkson and, by implication, Wilberforce, have been actu-
ated against us. Tliese good men were brought into it, however, in the
feebleness of their expiring years, at least Clarkson in his feebleness, to
record a senticjent in opposition to our society. What has been the
280 MEMOm OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
result? Great Britain, in one of her ablest periodicals, and by one of
her ablest men, has declared that Sierra Leone must be abandoned;
that it is a failure ; and with the same voice they have pointed to the
Bepublic of Liberia, and declared it to be successful. Nay, after all the
money that has been spent upon that very coast by Great Britain, by
this country and others, money, sir, is but the simplest portion of the
tribute we have given. We have sent our gallant officers to die upon
that plague-smitten coast; many, many a family in this land, more in
England, have been clothed in the sackcloth of bitterness from the loss
of life wasted in good intentions, but miserable failures, to suppress the
slave trade ; but now, sir, for seven hundred miles of the entire coast of
that section of Africa, in a short time, from the further part of Liberia to
Sierra Leone, this society will have destroyed the slave trade. "What
navies could not do, and what navies with millions of cartouches and
hundreds of cannon and thousands of men, our little republic with its
little army and its little treasury have accomplished.
It is probable if the white man had done it, as my friend remarked, we
should have exulted over it, it would have been claimed as a triumph of
the white man's superiority ; but it has not. We have nursed him, sir,
he was a child, but now the black man is erect, tall, and as strong as a
man, but a child in intellect, in habit, and in foresight.
We had to nurse him ; but he is now a man. I remember well, sir,
you remember it well, and many of us here, with what fear and trem-
bling we ventured upon the experiment. But holy and wise men believed
it possible, especially after the career of that glorious man, that martyr to
this cause, whose mind and heart had a strength rarely paralleled ; I
mean Buchanan, the last white governor of Liberia — the people
who hear me may perhaps smile at it as an exaggeration — he was
one of the greatest men that God ever made, in mind, in heart, or
in appearance, — after his career, whom God sent, I am sure of it,
God sent him to make the way for a black man to assume the reins of
government.
He died, sir; and at last a colored man governs the colony, and he
governs the colony better than it was ever governed before, not
altogether in favor of his own credit, but also to the credit of the people,
who have been nursed into self-government. What is a Republic
without self-government? There is that colony, and that Republic,
COLONIZATION SPEECH. 281
aye, sir, Republics are always longer lived than Monarchies. It is the
history of the world, unless perhaps some of the great empires of whose
history -we know comparatively little. But, sir, that Republic of Liberia
will outlive every kingdom of Europe, and may not live very long either
to do that. (Applause.) Kow, sir, I will discuss this point only for a
moment; here is the demonstration given that the black man can
govern himself. We have made the demonstration, sir, and it has been
acknowledged sir, that he can govern himself. By whom, sir, have you
stated that the Republic had been acknowledged; by whom, sir?
would to God you had not been obliged to falter as your heart compels
you to do. Acknowledged by Great Britain and not by us ; and why, sir?
I am willing to give Great Britain the credit of philanthropy. I do not
forget she has other qualities besides philanthropy ; trade, sir, she loves
trade. What was it that gave to it its predominance ? I can trace no
characteristic in the Anglo-Saxon that gave them more force than their
love of trade.
You can trace it, sir, in all the history of the Anglo-Saxon race, but it
has been from the Republic of the Netherlands, we have learned the great
lesson of trade, and from whose shores went the Anglo-Saxons who have
given to England her great national characteristic, trade ! trade ! trade !
This is what the Anglo-Saxon conquers by and conquers for. Find me
a spot, sir, upon the face of the earth where they have not smuggled a
piece of their goods and merchandise. You cannot find a British port,
but there you will find the haunt of the smuggler who is protected by
those very forts. The far-famed Gibraltar, with its battlements and
garrison, is little better than a smuggling port to take advantage of the
weaker people of the Mediterranean and its neighborhood. But, sir,
what is the case now? there is a little chance of trade open upon a
certain coast of our own continent. It looks small as a mosquito ; but,
sir, the hum of that mosquito has not been unheard across the broad
Atlantic, and the queenly Victoria shakes hand by proxy, with the
breechless young vagabond who is called the king. For what, sir? For
trade, to make money. I do not blame them ; it is right to make money
if you can do it honestly ; and I am sure we are the last people in this
country, if we allow the Eastern States to belong to us, to say it is not
right to make money. Sir, you have the motive for the acknowledgment;
of the independence of Liberia ; I do not say that it is the only motive.
282 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
I know of no greater mistake in morals than to suppose a man's actions
spring from one motive. The concurrence and concentration of
different motives bear upon the man ; some are less easily deducted
than others, but still always a combination.
God forbid I should question her (Great Britain's) benevolence in tlie
acknowledgment, but I fear it was done upon the chance of penetrating
Africa through those rivers. I fear that her excellent Governor,
Roberts, would have gone home without his acknowledgment. Now,
sir, I believe that we are a philanthropic people, and I believe that we
love to make money ; but I say, sir, that the statesman who refuses to
acknowledge the Republic of Liberia, misses greatly his duty to the
United States and his country, as a commercial people.
But, sir, I am trespassing upon a point which will be handled far
more ably by my friend who has just returned from the coast of Africa.
Therefore, sir, I leave the subject, congratulating ourselves again upon
the great success, and congratulating no one more than yourself, to
whose presiding skill and energy and to whose high example we owe so
much of our success in our scheme. You contributed the noblest
donation of all when you gave your name. But, sir, we may all in our
little spheres rejoice. The smallest star in the firmament rejoices in the
light that God has given it. But, sir, there are those of us here, as we
look back to hours of conflict, who cannot say we are scarred with a
hundred fights, because fortunately, our armor was so proved, that the
weapons struck upon us shivered in the grasp of the hand that struck
with all the vehemence that malignity could give. Yes, sir, we can
remember our hours of darkness ; they were many ; but how bright is
the future! Happy to believe we have not simply planted a little
shrub, but a mighty tree that has been sown like a grain of mustard
seed, which yet shall wave its branches laden with celestial blessings
over the Continent of Africa and the millions of the colored race. In
this connection, we cannot but rejoice that the colored man was brought
here.
Could he have been educated for this purpose, where, I ask you, sir,
where could he have been educated for that career which he is now
entering upon in Liberia, but in this land where constitutional rights are
thoroughly understood, where the right of self-government is so clearly
propagated, where the success of our blessed institutions has shown by
SPEECH IN SYNOD. 283
an irresistible demonstration that freedom is the best heritage of man?"
To understand better Dr. Bethune's position on the ques-
tion of Slavery, we must consider his course in the Synod
of his own Church. In 1855 a large classis in North Car-
olina being dissatisfied with errors in the German Church,
asked for admission into the Dutch body. Dr. Bethune op-
posed the proceeding".
•*We should feel very kindly toward these brethren who have come
to us. They are Christian men, who consider themselves to be suffer-
ing for the sake of truth — who sympathize with us in doctrine, and
who have paid us the high respect of asking to be united with our in-
terest. God forbid, therefore, that one word should fall from my lips,
or from this Synod, which should in any way wound the feehngs, or
show disrespect to these estimable brethren.
If the proposition was to exclude a sla,ve-holder from the commun-
ion, I would oppose such an uncharitable and un-Christian act. I
would rather die than own a slave, unless it were that, in accepting
the ownership, I did it for his own good ; but I would rather die than
allow a Christian brother to be unjustly cast out of the house of God,
when our great Master paid the highest compliment he ever paid to a
human being, in saying to one who was a slave-owner and a soldier,
"I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel." But we are not
called upon to do this. In the providence of God we have been hap-
pily freed from this difficulty, and I think that we should remember
what the wise man says, Avith a great deal of point : *'He that passeth
by and meddleth with strife belonging not to him, is like one who
taketh a dog by the ears ;" there would be a precious deal of howling.
And so I feel in this case. Here we have not the strife among us. I
know there has been an attempt to introduce it among us. I have
seen with regret, movements made in some part of the Church to in-
dorse the action of a body with whom we hold relations upon the sub-
ject. If there be an attempt to press this matter in this body, I for
one am ready to swing clear of the American Board of Commissioners
of Foreign Missions, rather than one word should be uttered upon
Slavery. I do not agree with the action of that Board, but at the
284 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
same time I am willing to let other people have consciences on that
subject ; but the thing is to keep it out of the house here. I believe
that there is no man among us, unless he happens to be carried away
by the spirit of fanaticism, that makes him forget the interests of the
Church, who is willing to enter into a discussion of the subject on this
floor, and I therefore hold my tongue, and do not say what I am pre-
pared to say in other places, lest I do injustice to the feelmg of some
brethren, and thus create discussions.
I would not hold with a class of men who condemn every man at the
South ; but at the same time, I would not say that any one who has a
conscience upon the subject, different from mine, should be forced to take
action, which, if I were in his place, I would not be willing to be forced
into. I would say, ' Come as near to us as possible,' without saymg,
* Come in.' If they want funds for their Seminary, for their Church ;
if they want anything which we can do for them, let us do it. My
idea, illustrated in other words, is this : Because our neighbor is a
good man (for which we love him), if he has a slight taint of the small
pox, I do not think he should be allowed to innoculate with it our
whole Church."
Having presented a resolution expressive of courtesy and
kindness towards the brethren from North Carolina, but de-
clining the union, he continued : —
" That although he might be called a sneak and timid, yet he be-
lieved they were not called upon to discuss the slavery question. A
serpent was a sneak, but he remembered the advice of one of high au-
thority, ' Be ye wise as serpents.' Some gentlemen were very
anxious to fight lions. Let them mount their hobbys, for his part he
did not want to fight a cat."
The occasion was one of intense excitement, the claims of
the Classis upon Christian sympathy were strong — it would
have presented a grand mission field for the Dutch Church, —
but their request was declined, and very much through the wise
forecast of Dr. Bethuuo. Many wlio opposed him sharply
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 285
then as a truckler to Northern fanaticism, lived to thank
him for his wise counsels.
We next follow our debater to the exciting Tract Con-
troversy, where he appears on the other side of the great
argument. The discussion really begun in 1856, when pro-
posals were made at the meeting of the American Tract
Society, to print essays on the subject of slavery, a course
v^hich would at once stop the work of the Society in the
Southern States ; action was postponed by the appoint-
ment of a committee who should consider the subject and
report next year.
In 1857 they suggested that tracts should be printed
teaching masters their duties, and it was hoped that this
course would satisfj^ all parties. But the Society found
that even such tracts would incense the South, and, for the
sake of their national position, delayed the publication.
This inaction aroused new agitation. Parties began to
array themselves in order ; appeals were sent to all the
New England members for their presence, which put the
management of the Society on the defensive, and they
rallied their strength. At the Anti-Slavery caucus, pro-
ceeding the meeting, Mr. Tappan said, "When my neigh-
bor. Dr. Bethune, comes here to-morrow, and I believe he
is coming, as he is a perfect cornucopia of fun you will
have an abundance of it."
The great assembly convened in the church in Lafayette
Place, and, though none but life-members and directors
were admitted, j^et the house was filled to its utmost
capacitj^ Probably never in this country was there such a
grand gathering of Christian men, absorbed in the question
whether this great Society should be sustained or rent
asunder, for such seemed the issue at stake.
286 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Dr. Magee explained the course of the Society. Bishop
Mc'Ilvaine, with great dignit}", defended its interests. Dr.
Tyng led the opposition, when a vote was demanded. It
was taken amidst intense excitement. Those condemning
the management being first called for, three hundred and
forty-five rose ; it seemed a large number, but when the
other side voted, it seemed as if the whole house rose en
masse. The victory was complete. Dr. Bacon, of New
Haven, cried, '* We give it up," Dr. Bethune replied,
'' Yes, but we want to know how much you give it up.'^
There was much diflSculty in the count, but it was finally
agreed that it was about ten to one. But the opposition
was not vanquished. Dr. Bacon pressed the resolution of
last year, about tracts on slavery, saying, " 1 believe that
God governs the world ; and I don't believe, in the long
run, the devil is to beat," and gave warning that, if defeated
to-day, he would continue this agitation, and his children,
and . children's children, would follow it up. When Dr.
Bethune arose it was as the mouth-piece of the house. It
was quite certain that the Society was sustained, the
great interest was safe ; but the great majority needed an
expression of their feeling, and for the intense emotion a
great speaker was needed. Dr. B. ascended to the majesty
of the occasion. He protested against the action of last
year as being unaniomus.
" We are now called upon to publish tracts on slavery, though we
thereby shut our tracts out of fifteen States of the Union ! But the
gentlemen come here to drive the Society into decisive and destruc-
tive measures, and Dr. Bacon tells us that he will never give it up;
he will pursue us, with all the little Bacons after him, from genera-
tion to generation. (Great laughter.) Dr. Bacon also expresses
his confidence that he and his friends will get the victory in the end,
DR. bethune's speech. 287
because he believes that the devil will be -whipped at last ! He
classes us with the children of the devil. But we believe that we are
on the side of the truth and of righteousness, that the Bible is with
us, God is with us, and we intend to stand by the Society to the
end. If Dr. Bacon is a life-memher, so are we, and whenever he
comes to agitate this subject he will find us here. And before this
Society shall pervert its sacred trust to the publication of abolition
tracts, we will carry the question through every Court in the land.
(Great applause.) The gentleman from Ncav Haven, Dr. Bacon,
asks if the moral law is abrogated by slavery ? if adultery is not
adultery at the South ? I answer by asking if adultery is any worse
south of Mason and Dixon's line than it is north of it ? Is sin any
worse in a black man than a white man ? And as to this particular
sin, I sa;y, ' let him that is without sin, cast the first stone.' No one
can doubt about the evangelical origin of that sentiment. This
exhibits the difference between the views of the gentlemen on the
other side and ours. We wish to publish tracts against sin, all sin ;
to rebuke and oppose it ; but we see no reason for treating covetous-
ness, or licentiousness, or oppression, as worse in one part of the
country than in another.
We are united as a Society, not merely in a charter, but in a
trust ; we have given our money, our fathers have given their money,
and we have exerted our various talents for the upbuilding of this
institution. Our money is between every brick. Yes, it is the very
mortar which holds the bricks together. It is distributed through all
the stereotype plates, in all the presses of the Society. It is in more
than this ; it is in the glorious system of evangelical operations which
this Society has inaugurated, and still maintains. We stand where
our fathers placed us ; and it is my privilege to remember the day on
which this Society was begun. I remember it well ; and it has been
dear to my heart ever since. It is yet sacred in my thoughts, that
the life of my grandmother, Isabella Graham, the greatest treasure
which our family ever had — one of the treasures which the church
of God esteems the most precious — we committed to this Tract
Society ; we have given money, my father before me, all of us have
given money ; but what is money to a gift like that ?
What are we to print but tracts for circulation, for the dissemina-
tion of evangelical religion and sound morals, that are 'calculated to
288 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
meet the approbation of all evangelical Christians?' When, there-
fore, Christians who in the judgment of charity can be called evangel-
ical, say that a tract must not be printed, I hold, according to the
sacredness of the compact, according to the fidelity of the trust, that
that tract ought not to be printed.
Sir, it is something to get funds, it Is something to have auxilia-
ries and supporters ; but I tell you what is better than funds, and
better than auxiliaries, it is a field where we can work. Here, at the
thickly settled Xorth, abounding in churches, where every man lives
within the sound of the Gospel, — in the free North, where are institu-
tions cultivating religion and virtue by their various influences, — in
the favored North, where we have so many institutions of learning,
and so many religious advantages, this Tract Society is not so much
needed. We have other powerful means to enlighten and evangelize ;
but we see at the South ten millions of immortal sou^s. What shall
we do for them ? We care not whether they are black or white per-
sons who have these souls. I only know three things : that these
souls are immortal ; that they are sinful ; and that Christ who died
for me, died for them. And, sir, what I want to do through this
Society is, to send the precious Gospel there, and I wish to clog its
progress with no difficulties."
He believed in the certain emancipation of the slaves in
the United States, not only from his confidence in the
triumph of Christianity, but from his confidence in our polit-
ical institutions and the predominance of fre^ labor. These
men are to be free, and he wanted to know in what moral
condition they are to be free ? He wanted to prepare them
for that great advent of freedom. He wanted to prepare
them to take their place where they ought to be, by the
side of the white man.
" I go for sending the tract with the Gospel, and I go for it for this
reason : because I believe that, according to the philosophy of our
blessed religion, mankind must be changed from within ; and that no
external appliances are ever going to bring about the reformation of
THE FREEDOM OF THE GOSFEL. 289
men. I do not believe the doctrine of the infidel ' Westminster/ that
morals must precede missions which carry the Gospel. The evangeli-
cal method is, to send the doctrine of Jesus Christ and him crucified,
first, that is, the Gospel. Preach it to black men, preach it to white
men. This is what we want. There are slaves there suffering in
body and soul ; slaves who have none of the comforts that we have
in this world. Sir, I wish to make them freemen of the Lord. I
care not, comparatively, whether they be bond or free, whether they
be Jew or Gentile, whether they be Barbarian or Greek ; if they are
saved by faith in the blood of Jesus, this world matters little. There
is heaven, eternal heaven, when their brief sorrows are over; and it
is because this Gospel is my comfort, that I want to send it to the
poorest negro of the South.
I recognize no difference between my black brother and mvself.
Born of the same nature, drawing hope from the same Christ, lying
down alike in the grave, and hoping for one home in heaven, he is my
brother. None shall divorce him from me. I am his keeper; but
the greatest blessing God bids me bestow upon my neighbor is to love
my neighbor as myself, and of all things in this world — liberty,
riches, learning, friends, — I would say, give me Christ, give me
Christ. Take riches, honor, friends, liberty, life, but give me Christ;
let me know that my Redeemer liveth ; let Christ be in me the hope
of glory everlasting. And because I love Christ best for myself, I
would give Christ to the black man, and I would send a knowledge
of Christ to the black man in the tracts of this Society. So do I turn
away from every plan which shall hinder the full and free operation
of this Society over that vast South. Hinder us not, hinder us not.
The way is gi-eat, we have a mighty work to do. Souls, immortal
souls, are going down to death, whom we are bound to rescue.
Hinder us not. ^Ye cannot forsake the South. I do not mean the
institutions of the South. I mean the slaves of the South, the masters
of the South, all the sinners of the South. God, Jehovah, in whom
we trust, has put the obligation upon our consciences. We cannot
turn aside. * God is our refuge, and our strength ; therefore will we
not fear, though the earth be removed, though the mountains thereof
be carried into the midst of the sea.' "
His position on the slavery question is thus clearly de-
19
290 IVIEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
fined : opposed to it with all his heart, holding that
slavery was a "crime/' desirous to avoid all connection with
it, yet he would select the most prudent course to alleviate
its sorrows and prepare the way for freedom.
We insert here, as bearing directly upon this point, a let-
ter to Mr. John Brydon, Edinburgh, dated Newburgh-on-
the-Hudson, July, 1853. The opinions entertained were of
course modified, though not changed, by the political events
of seven years later.
" My Dear Sir : — I cannot retract what I said of Mrs. Stowe, and
as I am little accustomed to mould my opinions, except from my own
convictions, you must believe, though I may lose somewhat of your
favor, that they are from my own mind and not from without. Of the
system of slavery, I think as badly as you can. Nothing would tempt
me to share in its common evi4 ; but I cannot approve of the gross
misrepresentations of Mrs. Stowe's book, which show the clergy of
this country in the worst possible light, and studiously avoid allusions
to the many palliating circumstances which a Christian charity should
duly consider. My observation of the South has been large. I have
personally labored among the slaves as a preacher, and been an eye-
witness of sacrifices and pains on the part of good people for those
who, not by choice of theirs, had been put under them.
The evidence in Mrs. Stowe's second book is very shocking ; but if
a like attempt were made by a Socialist to exhibit the evils of mar-
rlao'e or even of parental authority or of the relations of landlord and
tenant, &c., &c., a far worse show could be made. More wives are
killed by their husbands, than slaves by their masters, a hundred
times. The evil is here, and the question is how to get rid of it, and
on that but httle light has yet been thrown from any quarter. The
Americans were not alone In finding difficulty resulting from disorders
in society from a long growth of wrong. When England has cleared
her skirts of evils within her own limits, It will be time enough for her
to dictate to us.
But my quarrel with Mrs. Stowe Is not for having written her
book, mahgnant as some parts of it are. It is for consenting to be
MRS. STOWE'S BRITISH POPULARITY. 291
f(&ted by your people in reward for her book. We are not deceived,
nor ought she to be, as to the cause of such honor being awarded her
among you. The proof is too plain that it is a jealous hate of Ameri-
ca, not a love of human happiness ; a hate which grows without any
occasion, but our increasing commercial and moral rivalry. At the
very moment that Mrs. Stowe was received with acclamations, the
British armies were carrying blood-shed and rapine into the Burman
empire, and all British India is but a bloody monument of British ra-
pacity, cruelty, and selfishness — yet what voice of mercy is heard from
your pseudo-philanthropists on that subject ? Slavery, far worse than
our country knows, prevails in Russia, your monarchical ally, yet
•what voice has been heard in Britain against that? Does the fact
that our slaves are black and the Russians white make the differ-
ence ? No, my friend, your anti-slavery feeling against America is
but the form of British hate, Britain's pet Pharisaism — which, while
it declaims against the views of others, tolerates the most monstrous
evils at home and abroad. If anything could make the unholy farce
more transparent, it is the fact that the Duchess of Sutherland heads
the movement. Sutherland is a name which her Grace's mother and
father made infamous for the most horrid cruelties in driving their
Highland clansmen from their homes of centuries in circumstances un-
rivalled for cruelty, except it be by more recent evictions in Ireland.
The United States have freely given homes to the fugitive slaves who
were driven out of Great Britain by tyrannies, such as no Southern
planter ever dreamed of. Mrs. Stowe knows the reason of her
British popularity, and I call it the conduct of a traitor to receive
personal favors at the expense of one's country. As to your emanci-
pation of the West India slaves (a pretty mess you have made of it)
the parallel holds not good, as the owners of these slaves did not
emancipate them, but were forced by a foreign parliament against all
the votes which indirectly represented them to the measure. Our
Northern States had long before, — New York in 1818 — set their
slaves free, and now the power to free those at the South lies in
Southern hands, not ours. The people who voted the West India
slaves free were 3000 miles away from any evils or dangers conse-
quent upon the step ; the more than three millions of blacks are with-
in our own borders. The British West India slavery was so cruel
that the number of the slaves decreased ; in our Southern States they
292 MEMOIR OF gp:o. w. bethune, d. d.
increase faster than any population in the world, a clear sign that
physically at least they are not ill treated. Do you know, also, that
the number of slaves voluntarily and without compensation set free in
this country, considerably exceeds all that Great Britain has emanci-
pated? These are the reasons why Mrs. Stowe, as an American
woman, should have declined honors at the cost of her country's hon-
or. I speak from my own heart. When I first went to Great Britain
in 1836, I found myself assailed at every dinner-table in England and
Scotland, from that of the peer downwards, with attacks on my coun-
try. I withdrew myself from all society, but those of my personal
friends. I bore letters to some of the most eminent men of Glasgow,
Drs. Wardlaw, Hugh, and others, but I presented none of them, for
they had united in a meeting of pharisaical hate of America. When
I have been in Great Britain, twice since, I have travelled as an un-
known stranger, rather than break bread under roofs where my
country was abused. This, depend upon it, is the feeling of the more
thoughtful among Americans visiting Great Britain ; Mrs. Stowe is a
notorious exception. Fervently do I long and pray and labor for the
emancipation of the slaves. I hate the system which oppresses them,
and every system of oppression. But I cannot condemn my fellow
sinner at the South for being placed in temptations I know nothing
of, nor can I shut my eyes to any evil but one. When the beam is
out of the eye of Great Britain, she may well see clearer. The times
threaten a period not far off when Great Britain and the United
States should stand shoulder to shoulder for the liberties of the world.
The once harsh mother will need the arm of her sturdy child. All
that can tend to bind us together should be carefully cherished, and
we were tending to this when the devil assumed the form of charity
and stirred up Uncle Tom's Cabin to distract and embitter.
Yours affectionately,
Geo. W. Bethune."
Desire to present Dr. Bethune's relation to this subject in
connection has carried us, in time, beyond another of the
grand occasions in his life ; the meeting of sympathy with
the Madiai, where he represented " the martyrs of Holland
and the inflexible opponents of papal intolerance." A gew-
TUE MADIAI FAMILY. 293
tleman who has had large privileges of hearing distinguished
men at home and abroad, has told us that he never listened
to so fine a specimen of forensic eloquence.
" At Florence, Italy, several members of the Madiai family-
had been imprisoned at hard labor for the single crime of
possessing a Bible ; and they were sentenced to sufier for
several years ; this fact, published abroad, had excited the
rebuke of the civilized world. Immense meetings had been
held in London, Edinburgh and Dublin, to denounce the bar-
barism, and it was arranged that on the 7th January, 1853,
the city of New York should utter its voice. Metropolitan
Hall was engaged, the largest in the country and capable
of holding about 6000 persons ; it was an assembly of the
wit, beauty and religion of the city gathered together to
hear their favorite orators, and to express Christian sympa-
thy with the persecuted. Mr. Westervelt, the mayor of the
city, presided, and addresses were made by representative
men of different denominations ; but Dr. Bethune rose head
and shoulders above them all. Never shall I forget the
sensation as his clear, bell-like voice rang upon my ears.
He came from the back part of the stage speaking as he ad-
vanced, his great body seeming to grow larger with emotion
at every step he took.
' I feel as if I were called again into the presence of centuries long
past. I seem to hear those sublime words ringing in my ears : I
believe in the Holy Ghost, and in the holy Catholic church, and in
the communion of Saints. There is hut one head and one body ; and
wherever there is one who believes in Jesus Christ, there is a member
of that Church ; and if one member suffers, all the members suffer
with it. If we have the Holy Ghost within us, if we have become
vitally united to the body of our blessed Lord by a living faith, there
is not one of us whose heart is not bleeding with those beloved Chris-
tians who are now crushed beneath the foot of the oppressor ; and we
294 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
must, before God, who gave us hearts and faith, speak out. I am
sure we must all feel it, and our sympathies must find relief ; and if it
reach no further than to give us relief from this pent-up emotion, this
meeting is a blessing to the freemen and inhabitants of New York.
I said I felt as if I were called into centuries long past away. We
read of the sufferings of the primitive Christians ; we read of them
who were stoned and sawn asunder, who sang amidst the smoke of
their fires, who perished in dungeons with the long pain of fatal hun-
ger ; and, until a very short time ago, we had felt, as Christians, that
those days had past. There were some prophecies that, interpreted in
a particular light, seemed to tell that the days of that persecution
might return ; but we had long been in the habit of feeling that those
days had gone.
It is not long since we had the privilege of welcoming the stranger
among us, and it was a higher privilege to welcome the exiles from
the island of Madeira. Then, for the first time, we were permitted
to see tlie Confessors such as are now canonized by that same
Church of Rome. And now we are told, that two obscure individuals,
in the midst of that Church, are incarcerated and treated as felons, for
no crime but reading the Bible. From my heart I sympathize with
that brother and sister in Christ ; but much remains yet behind to be
filled up of the sufferings of Christ. There remains yet a necessity for
the sufferings of the people of God to prove, in the first place, the evil
of that spirit which exalts itself against the Scriptures ; and in the
second place, to prove the divinity of that faith which upholds the
soul above torture, and imprisonment, and death.
This proves that the spirit of that power is unchanged. It is impos-
sible for an American, brought up from his childhood amidst the light,
and liberty and privileges which we enjoy in this land, it is impossible
for him to conceive the tyranny and oppression which exist in the Old
World ; and when we tell him of it, he tells us that we are calumniating
our brethren and that it is not riglit to bring such charges against
men, because their ancestors in past centuries have been guilty of
crimes, and that the growing light of science and the interchange of
philanthropic feeling have wrought a great revolution in the spirit of
that church which was formerly recognized as a church of persecution.
Here is a fact rising up before us, which tells us that the spirit which
persecuted the Albigenses is still there, not dead, but rampant and
RELIGIOUS OPPRESSION. 295
ready, so far as it has the power, to crush now, as it was ready to
crush five hundred years ago. Am I wrong in this ? I see a brother
here upon the stage who told me once in preaching preparatory to the
Sacrament, he took occasion to explain the fallacy of the doctrine of
transubstantiation held by the Catholic Church, and that one of his
parishioners complained of his slandering the Catholics ; for we all
know, said the man, that nobody can believe such nonsense. This
was the light he took of it, and precisely in the same manner do wo
find people believing it impossible that the spirit of persecution can
still exist as it existed in former years. The spirit of antichrist is the
same at all times. The spirit of Christ says Search the Scriptures ;
and wherever there comes a spirit which forbids you to search the
Scriptures, you may depend upon it that there is the spirit of anti-
christ, because it is opposed to it. (Applause.) And now we know
that his oppression exists, does it not become us to aid the oppressed?
Are we not a republic ? and are we not the only nation on the face of
the earth, except it be the little republic on the shores of Liberia, in
which religious liberty is entire ? (Applause). Since we in this coun-
try, as republicans, are bearing our testimony to the value of republi-
can principles in the face of the whole earth, should we not believe
that it is part of our mission not only to enjoy what God has sent us,
but to diffuse it to others ? This is the only country in which the prin-
ciple of religious liberty has been permitted to work itself out ; and as
all our churches have flourished and grown strong, and been a bles-
sing to us under the system, I say it is our duty, not as Protestants
only, but as freemen, to lift up our voice against religious oppression
wherever it may exist. (Loud applause.)
Now I wish to speak a few words in relation to the Romish Church.
What is the meaning of the words Protestant Country, as applied
to the United States? I read as follows :" I suppose that at last it
will come down to signify nothing more than the majority of the inhab-
itants are Protestants ; but has it never occurred to those who would
make such an objection, that majorities and minorities are mere acci-
dents, liable to change I whereas the constitution is a principle and
not an accident; its great," and mark you this, "its great and unap-
preciable value is that it prescribes the duties of the majority, and
protects with equal and impartial justice the rights of the minority.
In this country the Constitution of the United States says the majority
shall rule."
296 3[e:![0ir ct geo. v^. betiiu^'e, d. d.
God errant it I '• Xo^ in pursnanee of the constitution, this is
neither a Protestant nor a Catholic eonntn', bnt a broad land of civil
and religions freedom and eqnalitv secured to all.'* This is the eulogi-
nm pronounced upon the Constitution of the United States by Arch-
bishop Hnsrhes. Xow, I have not the honor of knowing that gentle-
man personally, but vre are sufficiently well known to the public to
warrant my not waiting for an introduction, and I call upon him, in
the name of the liberties which his church has enjoyed — in the name
of that freedom whidb eTerr Protestant in this house, that is worthy
the name of Protestant, is willing to accord to erery Roman Catho-
lic in the land — I call upon him in gratitude to the Ealtimores and
Williamses, and those whose spirits made that Constitution of ours
free from erery stain of religious restraint — I call upon him to join
us in calling upon lie Duke of Tuscany to set free these people. (Tre-
mendous applause.) If this oppression be not the work of Roman
Catholicism, he cannot, he will not, refuse to join in the extension of
that principle over which he rejoices, (cheers.) If he does not join
us we shall beliere that such oppression is part and parcel of Roman
Catholicism, and that if they had the power here, they would act like
the Duke of Tuscany. This is the point to which we come. We
hare stronger sympathies in one caase than another, and it is possible
that I may hare them : but I rerily beliere, if I know my own heart, that
if this were a case of religious oppression of a Jew or Turk, much more
the oppression of a Roman Catholic, who yet I hold to be a fellow-
Christian — I may say my indignation would be as strong as it is now ;
and I would lift up my feeble voice in advocacy of the great princi-
ple, that, let man be Jew, Turk,Papi5t, or Protestant, let him alone.
(Loud applause) Let him talk with his God, and let hi; God talk with
him : and therefore it is not as a Protestant, but as a Christian citizen
of a free land that I am glad to see my Catholic fellow-citizens as free
as myself — therefore it is that I desire to protest against this oppres-
sion, and I call upon my Catholic brethren to join me in the protest.
(Applause.) It will not come : depend upon it, it will not.
Every one who knows anything about Italy for years since, is aware
that this very Dake of Tasemy was so kind- so clement, and r.o leni-
ent a prince, that he may be said to have been the best beloved of all Eu-
ropean sovereigns, unless it may be perhaps the Emperor of Russia,
who is regarded with a sort of a religions affection ; and I will tell you
KOME A^D EOMAXISM. 207
raore, that if that conspiracy which broke out some rears ago to con-
solidate Italy into one kingdom had been successful, the leaders
would have placed him at the head of the kingdom. And why ? Be-
cause of his liberal sentiments and kind heart they Tnshed to put him
on the throne. I have seen, sir. this old man walking, with his hands
behind liis back, superintending the improvements of Leghorn and
other parts of his dominions, patting the little children on the head,
talking to the working people, and nodding familiarly to the market-
women, the ver}- picture of a good king. Has this man changed ?
Yes. At that very time, the minions of the Pope endeavoured to use
him in oppressing the people : but he put them one side, and set his
face against religious tyranny. But he has now grown old, his brain
has become weak, his heart fearful, and he has changed. It is not the
Grand Duke of Tuscany now, it is the priest. Am I wrong in charg-
ing this upon the priesthood ? The Pope is a priest, and the Pope is
supreme at Rome. Let the Pope decree religious liberty; let the
Pope wash his h.ands of religious oppression, let religion be free in
Rome, and then I shall believe that religious oppression is not the act
of the priest, but of the government.
But this very night there is within the city of Rome, a narrow
street, with a gate at each end, into which is crammed everv night
from seven to eight hundred human beings. Drive through that street
in the daytime, and you need perfume to keep you from fainting, such is
the consequence of this dense population. "Who are these people?
They are almost under the shadow of the Vatican. And this most
Christian sovereign of the most Christian Church, has the power to set
them free ; but he closes the gates on them at eight o'clock every even-
ing in the winter, .and nine o'clock in the summer, anil opens them
in the morning at a corresponding hour. Why is this ? Because they
are Jews, and the Roman Catholic religion tolerates no religion but
its own. If we are guilty of slander — if it seems like calumny to
charge oppression upon those who prafess in some respects the same
faith as ourselves, let them wash their hands of these things. The
Pope ought to be the champion of religious freedom. lie should set the
example to the world by allowing truth to come into contact with error.
If there be a city, next to Jerusalem itself, filled with consecrated
recollections, it is Rome — Rome, whose grounds are honey-combed
with the tombs of early martyrs. A little while since, when there
298 MEMOm OF GEO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
■was danger, what did you see ? A sovereign prince, the representa-
tive of the Apostle — puts on a livery and gets behind a travelling-
carriage and flies like a lackey ! The coward fled! And he whose
voice of authority had roared like a bull from the Vatican, roared
from the palace of Casta, like a petted calf !
Are you here to sympathize with a gentleman, a nobleman ? This
man, who is imprisoned, is what is called a lackey, a hired servant.
This man, when called to give up his Bible, did he fly ? fly like a
Pope ? No ; superstition has made a Pope a coward, while the Bible
has raised a lackey to the dignity of a nobleman.''
He now called upon the priests to join in maintaining
civil liberty. But he believed if they controlled the muni-
cipal authorities of this city as they do the Duke or Tus-
cany, his head to-morrov7 morning would not be worth a
sixpence. ' And yet, said he,' I here declare before God, that
I hope I have the spirit of my country's history, and have
drunk deeply enough of the spirit of religious liberty, to lay
my head upon a block and have it chopped off, before a sin-
gle hair of the head of the most bigoted Papist in this land
should suffer the least harm by religious persecution.'
(Tumultuous applause, and the speaker took his seat.)
While he attacked the system, he cherished no undue pre-
judices against the people. When at a public meeting
Gavazzi one night attacked Chief Justice Taney as a Ro-
manist, the writer remembers that Dr. Bethune abruptly
left the stage, saying, ' He is a most pure man. Gavazzi
knows nothing about us.' "
The following extract from his speech before the Sea-
men's Friend Society, affords yet another evidence of his
powers as an orator:
" Suppose," said he, "that every ship that sails from this port, every
ship especially that stretches her course into those quarters of the world
where ' the darkness of the shadow of death,' is still on the nations,
were manned by Christian seamen, commanded by pious officers, and
were followed by the prayers of pious merchants, as eager that those
seamen's friend society. 299
ships should be made tributary to the glory of God, that those men
should be made instrumental in carrying light among the destitute, as
that they should bring home the profits of commercial enterprise, what
would be the consequence ? How scon would this earth be blessed with
the knowledge of the Lord, and all nations rejoice in the blessing of
that light which shines over us ! This is what the Christian world must
come to. Our religion does not inculcate piety merely for one day in
the week, to take one dollar out of a thousand and put it into the treas-
ury of the Lord. It should be like leaven that Icaveneth the whole
lump, pervading our whole life, and making our daily occupation sacred
to God. Consecrating every instrumentality of our worldly comfort and
prosperity, by making it subservient to the great cause of salvation
throughout the whole world.
And where, if this doctrine be true, is this instrumentality so full of
promise, or so certain, under Divine blessing, of success, as in the op-
portunities offered by the Seamen's Friend Society? He did not pro-
pose to enter into all the romance thrown around the seaman's character.
A great many reckless and jovial characteristics he possessed on land.
They afforded opportunities for a display of rhetoric, but practically, the
sailor was like other men, born with the same naked depravities, ex-
posed to the same temptations, and needing precisely the same grace
of God that converted Paul, Mary Magdalene, or any sinner on the
face of the earth. It was no more difficult for that grace to convert the
sailor than the landsman. Either, according to his faith, was miracu-
lous ; a work great as creation. But when we believe it is the power
of God, we believe that that power is promised to earnest faith ; and
the word which says, ' That which we sow, we shall also reap,' is the only
encouragement which leads us on in this great work of attempting to
evangelize the men of the sea. But the sailor has claims on us, not from
his peculiar generosity or characteristics, which make it better or worse.
The soul of one man, all other things being equal, is worth as much
as another ; but, when converted, it may be worth more than another,
in the influence which it may bring to bear on the world. If the sailor
is going to distant lands, to a nation resembling our own at onetime, to
the shores cursed by the superstitions of Rome at another; on one voy?
age to a part darkened by the faith of the False Prophet, or upon an-
other, to one Avliere dcmonism slirouds its people in the absurdities of a
cruel feticism : the conversion of this wanderer of the seas, who comes
300 MEMOIli OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
as near ubiquity as any man can, is worth, in tliis light, more than i.iG
conversion of ten ordinary men that stay at Lome, ev-ery night sleeping
in the same bed, and every Sabbath worshipping in the same church.
God, in his providence made great use of common men, but the conver-
sion of these was not equal, in its influence, in the v\'orld at large, to the
conversion of one intelligent sailor who travels over the earth.
Again, the sailor claims especial care, not because of Ms aptness or
unaptness to receive instruction. God, by his Spirit, makes that soil the
least promising, the most fruitful. But God works by means. We have
Christian churches everwhere ; but it is not so for the sailor. He is a
few days in port, and many days at sea ; one Sabbath within reach of the
Gospel, and three, four, five, perhaps a year or two, where no Sabbath
bell is heard, no gospel preached, and no Christian influence brought to
bear; and because the sailor has not a Sabbath in ten tliat we have,
should we work ten times as hard to do the sailor good on that Sabbath,
as we do to serve ordinary men any common Sabbath of the year.
We want to intensify our labor for the sailor, because when we catch
him, it is only for a little time ; while the minister can preach to the ordi-
nary people, if tliey will keep awake to hear him, every Sunday in the
year. This society provides for the sailor at home, every accommoda-
tion ; and, not content to bless him at home, it follows him abroad ;
and it was the great purpose of the charity, next to giving the sailor an
opportunity of instruction here, to send the gospel to meet him every-
where he goes. Funds alone were needed to carry out fully this ob-
ject; for wherever there is a port which gathers together a sufficient
number of American ships to make a congregation, there were they
ready to offer the gospel, with all tlie instrumentalities tliat surround it,
as an appointed means of blessing to the world.
No harbor in which ships bearing the American flag are crowded,
should be without a due provision for the dissemination of religious
truth. Think of the example our country recently set to the world,
perhaps too long delayed, but not the less glorious since manifested.
A man, not a native of this country, a fugitive from the land of his
birth, where his struggles in the cause of freedom, giving them the best
interpretation, compromised his safety, — passing, as it were, only
under the shadow of the American flag, that shadow consecrates him as
under the protection of a mighty nation ; and there, one who wears the
MEETING IN HONOR OF COOPER. 301
uniform of this country, declares, in the face of a triple force, tliat he
is safe ; that he must be delivered up into the hands of those represent-
ing the dignity of that country, whose protection he claimed. And what
has been the result?
The dignity of our country has been elevated in the estimation of
the world. The name of the gallant Captain Ingraham cannot be ut-
tered without calling forth the acclamations of his countrymen. (Ap-
plause.)
But, while doing him honor, he (Rev. Dr. Bethune) was not the less
certain that there was not an officer in our American navy that was not
prepared to do the same for an American, wherever found. Now, they
wanted the church to be as faithful to the sailor, as the country is to her
citizen ; that the sailor, wherever he goes, niiglit know that there is a
friend armed with the panoply of the gospel, to shield him from the dan-
gers, worse, a thousand-fold, than a foreign dungeon, chains, or tem-
poral death ; a friend that could lash his soul safe, as it were, to the
cross that should float him safely over the waters to Heaven.
Wherever we have a commerce, wherever the American flag is un-
furled, there is truth, defence, and a nation pledged for the safety of its
citizens, who had the right to worship God as conscience should dictate.
And every administration that should not get the privilege for them,
should be turned out one after another. But what we ask, is more than
the right to worthip God as we desire ; the opportunity, the churchy the
preacher, the communion vessels, the Bible, the hymn book, all the as-
sociations of Christianity, all consolations v/hen away from our dear
America, wherever we go, under the combined flags of the Bethel, and
of the American nation."
At the memorial service of J. Fenniraore Cooper, held at
City Hall, New York, Sept. 25th, 1851, W. Irving in the
chair, Dr. Bethune said :
" The eloquent gentleman, who has just addressed you, said that we
had met to celebrate the obsequies ' of him who has been in all our
thoughts.' Pardon me for dissenting from the expression. "We have
met to congratulate his spirit on its immortality. We are not permitted
to look within the mysterious veil which divides time from eternity, or
302 MEMOIU OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
follow him before the presence of God ; but we know that he died in
firm faith upon the Son of God, our lledeemer, the only ' way, and
truth, and life,' by whom we can ' come unto the Father.' In those al-
mighty, just, and merciful hands, we can leave him; but while we mourn
the departure of his generous worth on earth, it is our comfort and joy
to know that liis mind lives for as, and for all posterity, in Ms imper-
ishable pages. If wc may not hear fresh oracles of wisdom and truth
from his once indefatigable pen, those which he has uttered remahi
with us, ever precious and affectionately cherished. It is now our de-
sire to erect a memorial of our gratitude for so rich a legacy. The
fame of our Cooper needs no artificial monument ; with his own hand has
he engraved it on the magic scenery of our country, and interwoven ic
with the legends of our history.
He was not a poet in the melody of rhythm or the responses of
rhyme, but eminently one in the faculty of throwing the charms of im-
agination around rugged realities, and of elevating the soul with noble
sentiments. Who, with any sense of poetry could read the 'Prairie'
and not feel entranced by a poet's spell ! He was a true poet, and, if we
had the spiritual perception or the vivid imagination of a true poet, we
should be conscious of a mournful moan,from out the rocky cliffs of the
Hudson, answered by the sighing of its sad waves along the shores illus-
trated by his genius.
There is scarcely a portion of our land, or scene of our best history,
or field of the ocean cut by an American keel, which does not bear testi-
mony to his graphic truth. But, sir, how dare I attempt his eulogy, af-
ter his memory has been crowned this night by the classic hand of him,
whom all of us acknowledge the foremost representative of American po-
etry; before an assembly of our citizens unparalleled for its combination
of numbers, intelligence and moral worth, presided over — pardon me,
sir, I would fain avoid the excuses of unnecessary compliment, but when
I use the briefest term must pay the greatest — presided over by your-
self!
My friend Mr. Bancroft has said (I cannot repeat his happy language,
but will reach his thought) that we are not here to honor ' other men of
letters,' the worthy compeers of their deceased brother; but I come out
from this assembled senate of authors (among wliom I have lawfully no
place) to speak as one of tlie people, and say that we are assembled for
their honor as well as his.
IMMORTALITY OF GENIUS. 303
"We are met to assure tliosc eminent men, wlio give us the wise lessons
of our history, ennoble our thoughts by the highest flights of song, and
charm us with ethics in the pure strength of our Saxon tongue, made
graceful and tender through the inspiration of an exquisite sensibility,
ihat we are not ungrateful for the high benefits which the Father of lighls
confers upon us in their devoted services. This is the occasion for a
precedent of admiring justice to our men of commanding and generous
intellect. It is a sad thought, which can be relieved only by the faith that
the recoids of genius are imperishable— but the present reality forces it
upon us — the men whom we are this night happy to look upon, whose
voice and pen are even now contributing their efforts for our delight and
profit, must soon pass away.
We must have the satisfaction of assuring them by the honour we pay
to the memory of their first-born, first-departed brother, that, when they
are gone they shall not be forgotten. No, gentlemen, (bowing to Messrs
Bryant, Bancroft, and Irving) go on in the noble career for which Prov-
idence has fitted you, — add hourly to the inestimable treasures already
bestowed by your hands upon your countrymen and the world ; and if
you need a motive beyondyour own self-gratifying love of doing good, be
assured that when you ro.9 quoque moriiurih^ye left us, we, who now
cover with tributary laurels the brow of Cooper, will follow your ashes
with fond and loyal recollections.
Yet our thanks should not be expended in ' winged words', but, for the
sake of posterity and the mass of our compatriot people, embodied in some
enduring, public shape. Arts are kindred ; and among the best uses to
which those who imitate the visible works of the Creator can bo devoted,
is the preservation of their form and features who have been benefactors
of their country and mankind. Therefore would we, and our purpose
shall not fail, erect such a monument to the honor of this great and good
man, the first, I trust, of a long series, which shall commemorate his co-
temporaries and successors in like dignity.
We could not fail to note,— as the orator of the evening in simple and
elegant panegyric traced the long catalogue of our Cooper's writings, —
that those whicli most concerned the history and scenes of his native land
and ours, were most appreciated and efficient. The classical nations of
antiquity deemed the fame of a hero or a sage not complete until they had
inaugurated his statue. The capitals of modern Europe are crowded with
such enduring presentments of those Avhom kings delight to honor as in-
304 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
struments of despotism, or for whom the people are permitted to testify
esteem as friends of humanity. There is scarcely a town, however small,
without one or more statues of the dead in its open squares. But, many
as are the illustrious of our annals, you might look throughout our whole
land, and (with some insignificant exceptions) discover no proofs that we
can appreciate public services.
Let us, then, invoke the Genius of Sculpture, whose presence among
us is so amply certified, to pourtray for the eyes of our people and their
children, the lineaments of that face and form which, when living, were
animated by the patriotic and zealous spirit of Cooper. Let it be placed,
not in a hall of learning, or in a retreat of the few, but in the free common
air and sunlight, where all may look upon it, and learn fresh gratitude,
and gain fresh incentives to pursuits so honorable and so honored. We
have been told that his voice is now heard in every civilized tongue, and
we know, wherever it speaks, it tells the story of our national dignity and
teaches the maxims of political -wisdom and honesty which have raised
us to our unexampled prosperity. Such are the best contributions we
can make to the freedom of oppressed countries ; because they shoAV
that without a popular love of justice and union, arms and blood are pow-
erless to achieve liberty. The world has admired our Cooper as a man
of genius ; let them see that his countrymen love him as a wise champion
of political truth, and a faithful citizen.
Without love, which our God has ordained to be the sole sufficient
spring of all duty, virtue is but a name ; and without patriotism (the scoff
of knaves, but the admiration of the good) our citizenship will be hy-
pocrisy. Let us cherish this grand virtue ; let us teach it to posterity ;
and by public respect to the memory of those, who, like Cooper, have
served earnestly under the institutions which educated them, conserve
our self-respect and show our thankfulness for our wide, rich land, our
unequalled constitution, and the union of those States, the bond of their
security."
We conclude these specimens with a speech before the
American Bible Society, perhaps the most elaborate effort
of the kind that he ever prepared. He began by oifering
the following Resolution :
BIBLE SOCIETY SPEECH. 305
** As the Providence of God is bringing great numbers from foreign
countries to reside among us, many of them without tlie Bible,
Resolved, That it is among our first duties to furnish them with that
Sacred Book, that they may thus become a blessing and not an evil to
our population.
I am thankful to the committee of arrangements for putting in ray
hands, a theme which will greatly assist me to redeem my speech from
want of interest, because of the absolute want of time to prepare for it.
Here is a theme which appeals to the heart of every man not only as a
Christian, but also as a citizen of the United States. There was a great
and sublime truth couched in the Neo-Platonic doctrine ; that ' God is
unity,' and that as wc depart from God we run into multiplicity, and in
proportion as we go away from God, do we become not only multiplici-
tous and conflicting, but even chaotic.
God in tJie beginning spoke to our first parents, and to their immediate
offspring ; but when men in the pride of their wicked hearts were not
willing to retain him in their imagination, they went out from Him, and
they 'changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made
like unto corruptible man, and to birds and four-footed beasts, and
creeping things,' and thence came all that horrible catalogue of vices
which are included under the awful name of heathenism. Without God
in the world, the nations became not only without religion, but without
viHue; that bond, which out of the many, constitutes society, was lost
when the centralizing, harmonizing, and comprehending doctrine of God
was taken from the common soul of humanity ; and sir, out of this came
the separation of mankind. It was not only from the judgment of God
but a m.oral necessity, that when the people erected a temple to the false
god, Bel, there should have been a dispersion with a confusion of lan-
guages. They set up idolatry in the place of the true God ; and so de-
clared themselves traitorous rebels against the unity of the race, and
God left them to their own devices, and their very speech became
warped and strange to each other. They could not talk in one tongue,
because they had lost the teaching of their common Father. Out of
this came the multitude of languages which, much more, perhaps, than
geographical position, separates our race into so many distinct and
often conflicting nations. But, sir, under the influence of that same
religion from wliich man departed at the rise of idolatry — that blessed
20
30G MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
religion which is taught in our Bible — we return to the unity from
which we have departed.
We find the type of this in our own souls. How sweet to us, how
sweet in the experience of every Christian agitated by the cares and the
anxieties of life — how sweet to the Christian, when in his intellectual
pursuits he finds himself troubled amidst the varieties and oppositions
of human philosophy, when, like the messenger of Noah, he can find
no rest as he pursues his weary and wandering way over the dark and
storm-tossed sea; how sweet it is, sir, to come home to God, and have
our Noah put forth his hand and take us into the ark of the blessed
Bible ! Then do we say with him of old, ' In the multitude of my
thoughts Avitliin me ' — in the chaos of these errors, doubts and anxieties,
when human wisdom can give me no clue, when human teachers trouble
me more by their contrarieties and difierences — ' in the multitude of
my thoughts within me, thy comforts delight my soul.' There is our
comfort. We come home to God ; he is our Noah, our Rest. Our
reason bows herself and looks up in the face of a smiling Father ; and
as he speaks to us by his Spirit of life, and says, ' Peace, my child,' the
peace of God, not merely the peace, which God gives, but the peace
which God has — the infinite, profound serenity, the infinite sublime
calm which dwells in the mind of God, far above the conflicts of the
storms that, hang around this little world — ' the peace of God which
passeth all understanding,' comes into our own hearts, and as far as
our little finite can hold the infinite, it fills us with God himself, and
our happiness is like his.
One of the heathern philosophers, and the wisest of them, tells
us that * virtue is the harmony of the soul ; ' when every thought,
affection, desire, and motive are in perfect harmony, then is our
virtue perfect. And another, copying from him, says, in language I
have not good English enough properly to translate, that when it
shall please the Divinity to take from our eyes the mists, as they were
taken from the eyes of Diomed, we shall then see what to us is now
invisible, we shall have the perfect mind, that is, the finished reason,
which is all the same as virtue. It must be so ; intellectual truth
and moral rectitude must come together when they are perfect.
Perfeda mens, id est ahsoluta ratio, quod, est idem virtus.
Now, sir, this is the unity of God's blessed religion. It takes the
human heart of the individual, which is but the type of the whole
UNITY OF BIBLE IlELIGION. 307
race ; it pervades it with the love of God, Avhlch is the perfection of
the law, and instantly all passion, all desires, all thoughts, all motives,
come into perfect harmony, and the virtue of man is godliness, and
all true righteousness is peace. This is the type of what will be the
effect of our holy religion upon the Avhole world. Do we see, when
we take up our precious Bible, where it leads us from its very begin-
ning ? There are philosophers of the world, your cosmogonists, or
whatever you please to term them, that are boring down to the deep-
est stratum to frame their hypotheses, their ideas. God forbid that
I should hold, for a moment, true science to be in quarrel with
revelation. That can never be. No, sir, the God who made nature
wrote the Bible ; and I am not prepared to be an infidel as regards
the one principle any more than an infidel as regards the other. My
natural philosophy and my moral philosophy are in harmony with my
religion ; but we have here, as elsewhere, a multitude of thoughts in
this humaft mind of ours.
The cosmogonist of fifty years since was as positive that he was
right as the cosmogonist of this day is positive that his predecessor
was utterly wrong. Men were as wise in their own conceits, before
they found out the simple law upon which every child acts ; the law
of gravitation. It took them from the creation to Newton to find out
the law which lies upon the very surface, open to every eye ; yet
were they very positive in those days. Wise were they, also, before
the discovery was made of that wonderful element which pervades
all the physical economy of this lower earth, and whose mysteries we
have but begun to penetrate, — I mean that element called electricity,
which enters into every physical change we have the ability to ob-
serve ; which is found in light, life, in everything that has movement
and increase. Yet the world, before they discovered electricity, were
as wise in their own conceit as they are now ; and may I ask, by way
of parenthesis, who can tell that to-morrow there may not be discov-
ered a principle which has been hidden from the world until now ;
which shall work ns great changes in the theories of your cosmogonists,
as the discovery of gravitation or of electricity ?
But, sir, whatever may be our philosophical reasonings, the com-
fort of God delights our souls, and fills us with a peace that passeth
all understanding, when, as we read, ' In the beginning God created
the heaven and the earth.' There is where we begin ; and when we
308 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
go back there, there is no conflict ; we have returned to peace. ' God
created the heavens and the earth.' It is my opinion that the best
proof, and the proof that is irresistible, of the being of God, is, that
we know his being, and may contemplate him, as he is presented to
us in the Scriptures. God alone could reveal God. Were there no
God, the thought of the Infinite One could never have entered our
minds. But, sir, when we have that thought, how does it lead us
down from the original Cause, to the possible changes and results of
the world's history. ' God created the heavens and the earth ; ' God
laid these foundations ; God planned the superstructure ; God gave it
its beauty and symmetry; and will the Architect, looking compla-
cently upon His beautiful work, abandon it ? Can that go to chance
which came from Infinite Mind ? We go with the Bible up to God.
When we take a step farther on, what do we find but the race in the
one man and the one woman whom God gave him? and whatever
differences or distances may, in the process of time, have come
between man and man, and nations and nations, there we all meet.
All, from the noble, proud of his genealogy, to the most lowly servant
of our necessity, meet in the one man ; no matter what tongue is
spoken, no matter what be the hue of the skin, no matter what be the
form of government, or the degree of civilization in which he lives.
The man that looks to the first man who came from the hand of God,
must recognize every other man, on the face of the whole earth, as his
brother. Then again, when, from the wickedness of men, there came
to be the necessity of the washing out of sin from the whole world,
and the second father came, in Noah, we are again united in the ark
of typical promise.
Let me, sir, pass on to a yet more interesting point of union, when
God called out from the idolaters of that ancient superstition, from the
very fires of Baal, his friend, His chosen instrument of good and
blessing, the one he named Abraham, to go forth, not knowing
whither he went, gave him that promise which the apostle Paul
emphatically terms the Gospel, and said, ' In thy seed shall all
nations be blessed.' There is no division there, no foreigner there,
no division of human language or of human relationship there. * In
thy seed ' not thy seeds, as of many, but as of one * in thy seed,
— which is Christ, the seed that succeeded in the promise, the seed
of the covenant, 'in thy seed,' — in the seed of the woman, — 'in
thy seed shall all nations be blessed.'
MAJESTY OF THE GOSPEL. 309
And then passing on through the intermediate Scriptures, Avhen we
hear the multitudinous voices of angels rejoicing over Bethlehem, the
same voices, I doubt not, that swelled the diapason of their hallelu-
jahs, when * the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God
shouted for joy,' when they returned to sing again over the earth
their adoring joy, because of the * good news which shall be to all the
people.' No division of language, no division of territory, no division
of government there ; * for all people, ' before the majesty of that
Gospel, every system of human legislation, goes down ; and, while we
submit ourselves ' to the powers that be,' in obedience to the blessed
example of him who counted it his chiefest honor, as an example of
human virtue, to be the servant of all, and the servant of law ; I say,
while in obedience to his example we submit* to the law^s of human
government, we hold to a far higher sentiment, ' we have another
Kng, one Jesus.'
Wherever that name goes in its power it reigns ; and Jesus shall
reign until the whole world is his. Pardon me if I again return to
this history. As we come on in the history of God's providence,
the miraculous portion of which was finished, as we suppose, with the
completion of the Sacred Canon, we see other indications alike
springing from, and confirming the promise of, the Divine Word of
God. We behold the nations still separate and conflicting. The
philanthropist looks over the stormy sea, and his heart sickens,
and he asks himself, Shall there never be peace ? Shall these human
brethren always bite and devour one another? Is there no method
of purifying the human heart, the source whence come ' these wars
and fightings amongst ' us all? How shall we speak to them? They
speak difierent lauguages ; we cannot begin to tell them, though
our hearts prompt us to utter the ' glad tidings of great joy.' We
cannot begin to tell them the wonderful works of God, because we
cannot speak in their various tongues. Yet here is the blessing of
the Pentecost repeated. Yes, sir, tenfold is the blessing that rests
upon your Society.
I do not remember how many languages were known, and reduced to
jeystem, at the time of the Pentecost; but you may count them alias
they are given in the catalogue, by the sacred historian, and though
they appear many, how few they are to the number of languages upon
the face of the earth, at the present day I But what has the Bible
310 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Society done ? I say the Bible Society, because there will be no ques-
tion here of my claiming, for the Bible Society, a share in the philologi-
cal triumphs of missionaries and students under the influence of the
Bible- What has the Bible Society done ? At the beginning of this
century, if I mistake not, the languages of men that had been reduced
to system, to grammar, or dictionary, or even vocabulary, did not
amount to more than some forty or fifty. What is the case now?
Your Secretary can give the more exact number ; I cannot be exact to
a unit or so ; but in your own library, — certainly, if not there, in the
combined libraries of the American and the British and Foreign Bible
Societies, — you will find the Word of God in one hundred and seventy
languages. I call upon men of learning, I call upon the philosophers
of the world, I call upon all the Universities which are claimed to be
fountains of light and knowledge, I challenge the whole earth, in all its
breadth and all its history, to give me an equal triumph to this ; a
triumph of science, and triumph of learning, and triumph of philan-
thropy, like that which has trebled, more than trebled, the common
speech of the world, in less than sixty years; gives us access, literally
so, where we had it to but fifty peoples, to one hundred and seventy ;
so that we and all of us who wish to talk can talk, or may soon talk, to
the heart of our brother, wherever he lives, or whatever tongue he
speaks, and make your Bible Society our own interpreter to all our
kindred flesh. Ah, sir, I am not so weaned from the love of the world
as not to rejoice over the triumphs of learning, and it is my delight to
see how the triumphs of religion take the triumphs of learning into the
most sacred fellowship.
"When that great land, that mysterious nation, where there has been
a civilization more ancient far than our own, that people whose records
go back to the period when the ruins of the deluge were yet visible
upon the face of their country, and which is locked up from the rest of
the world because of its peculiar systems of governmental policy and
its peculiarly difficult language, was to be treated with, when it was
necessary that we, the commercial nations of the earth, England,
France, and America, should talk to China, the many hundred
millions of China, who was the interpreter? Did we go to Oxford?
Could we find him in Paris? Had we him in our own Princeton, Yale,
or Harvard? Sir, it was the missionary that talked for England, the
son of Morrison, who translated the Bible; and the missionary that
AFFECTING STORY. 311
talked for America, our own noble Parker, at the mention of whose
name« if this place were not sacred, you would burst forth in applause.
It was a missionary, though unhappily not of our own pure Protestant
creed, that talked for France. "Were it not for a despised missionary,
taught, animated, and inspired by the Word of God, which he loved, we
could have made no treaty with China, because China could not have
understood us, or we China. This is an illustrative fact, to my mind,
of the greatest importance. It shows that it is not philanthropy, it is
not learning, it is not commercial enterprise, but it is religion, the
religion of the Bible, the religion of the Bible Society, if you will,
which is to bring all nations together, to make them speak one lan-
guage, and to sing in perfect harmony, at no distant day, one song unto
God and His Christ. There are thoughts connected with this of
infinite interest to us all ; but while I speak thus, let me briefly, — for
I will not weary an audience who are listening to me so patiently and
kindly, — let me illustrate the fact by a touching incident :
During the war of the Crimea, after one of the most sanguinary
engagements, when the furious Frank and bearded Turk, and stalwart
Briton and stolid Russ, had mingled in the fearful fray; when the
battle-field was strewed with the dead and dying, and strange faces
were passing before the swimming eyes of those whose thoughts were
going back to their homes, perchance by the Don or the Volga, where
their 'young barbarians were at play ;' perhaps their home, around
which rustled the leaves of the vine, in merry France ; perchance the
home in the village, with its green lattice and its Sabbath chime of old
England; when, in this fearful hour, as the prowler was stealing from
one to another to rob the dead, and hate v/as seeking out more
victims to glut itself upon, and tliere, in mortal agony, lay a poor
Russian, thirsting for water with the burning thirst wliich only gunshot
wounds can cause, there came near him a French and an English
soldier. As they met together, searching for their comrades, they
looked into his face, and he looked eagerly into theirs, and said,
'Christos ! ' Ah ! sir, God be thanked for that name, the name which
is above every name, which in all varieties of language we recognize
as the name of Him ' whose we are, and whom we serve.'
But, sir, you will pardon me for leaving so long the resolution which
you committed to me, and yet I do not think I have wandered from the
312 MEMOIli OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
spirit of it. It is, that ' to this land the Providence of God is bringing
great numbers from foreign countries to reside among us, many of them
without the Bible.' Such is the preamble. Who is doing this ? What
is the reason that these people come from so many countries, that your
Secretary, according to ordinary speech, but not according to the higher
diction of Christian philanthropy, calls foreign countries ? Why is k
that they come here? It is ' the providence of God;' the same
providence that of old laid the foundations of the earth ; the providence
of Him who walked amongst the trees of the garden of Eden, and talked
Avith our first father ; the providence of Him who gathered our second
family into his ark, the same type of that ark Avhich is to gather the
saved out of all nations ; the providence of him who said to Abraham,
'in thy seed, (not in thy seeds, as to many, but unto thy seed, as of one)
' in thy seed shall ail nations be blessed ; ' the providence of Him who
sent his only begotten Son with good tidings ' which shall be to ail
peoples ; ' that ' providence brought these people to our shores.'
Who are they whom you call foreig7iers? Are they not children of
our first father, Adam? If we rejoice in the blessings of the gospel that
was first preached to Abraham, in the blessings of that gospel heralded
at our Saviour's birth, we must acknowledge them as those to whom the
gospel was sent as unto us. We have no right to exclude them, they
come here to their Father's land ; they come here to the tents of their
brethren ; they come here to join that company. I trust, at least, that
many, with God's blessing, will join that ' commonwealth,' in which
' there are no mora strangers and foreigners, but citizens with the saints
and of the household of God,'
Now to come to the approximate fact of the illustration by which I
have been endeavoring to show the comprehending, coalescing principle
of this blessed religion of ours, combining with the providence of God.
How long did this continent lie sleeping in the darkness of o'olivion?
How long were the forests waving over the soil which the plough had
never stirred? How long were these territories, now crowded with pop-
ulous cities and smiling farms, the hunting-ground of the wild man, not
less savage than tlie beast that he hunted? Almost as long as that law
of gravitation was hidden from the knowledge of man ; almost as long as
that great principle or element of electricity was hidden in mystery;
almost as long as man was ignorant of the art of printing or the inapel-
ling force of steam ; but it is but a little distance in the history of
centuries that these great discoveries are a part.
SYMPATHY WITH FOREIGNERS. 313
At this time God opens this continent; and here He says to all nations
of the earth, Here is a land where, for the first time since the institutions
of human government, religion has been free from legal patronage or
legal oppression ; here, where for the first time with intelligent insti-
tutions, man has a right, under God, to be liis own ruler ; here is an
asylum, like the blessed gospel, for every one that is under trouble and
ignominy in the old world, to flee to and be at rest.
I wish to say nothing severe of any one, but I am frank to say, I have
no sympatliy with the spirit which says that the foreigner has no claim
to our sympathy because he is a foreigner. Good, ancient George
Herbert tells us that ' Man is God's image, but a poor man is Christ's
stamp to boot.' And so I say wherever I see a human form, and human
intellect, and human afiection beaming from the human countenance,
There is my brotlier. But when I see a man that is a stranger, and
licar the accents of a foreign tongue, I see the image of Him who for my
sake was 'a stranger in the earth,' and ' liad not wliere to lay his head.'
This is the sentiment which, to my faith, our religion enjoins. This is
the sentiment which, as I believe, is the grand doctrine of our noble de-
mocracy, for I love to use that word ; men pervert it, as they do other
good words, but I rejoice to avow myself, in the same sentence, a
Christian and a democrat. I mean, by that term, a man who ac-
knowledges liis fellow-man as his equal, and is willing to give to every
man the rights whicli God lias given to him. Here we have in this land,
by the providence of God, the nations coming together.
Look at the nations of the world that have been separated ; look at
India sleeping, or convulsed in a delirium of half sleep, half wakeful-
ness ; look at those nations wliich sliow something of a civilization that
they have had in these former ages from the light of science — for next
to Egypt, India was once the most enlightened, if indeed India were not
the mother from whom Egypt learned her philosophy. But what has
India become ? What has the exclusive nation of China become ?
Shut up to themselves, witli no minglement of foreign bloods, no mingle-
ment of foreign habits and manners, in their own sameness from day to
day, without impulse, without variety, without stinmlus, there they lie
what they Avere, nay, more dead than thej^ were, thousands of years ago.
But, sir, you may take, as you very well know, Tacitus or Cjesar, and
you shall read in their writings the description of the Gaul, the German,
and the Spaniard, and tliey are exceptis ezcipiendis, and you can know
them at this day by the same cliaractcristics.
314 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
They have more learning, more science, more religion certainly, but
the spirit of the people is one, and as peoples they have risen but little,
or from their risings they have fallen back, and made comparatively
little progress. I mean progress in those great arts of comprehensive
civilization and philanthropic philosophy which elevate the soul above
the jealousies of earth, and combine men in the unities of Love. But
why is it? Because shut up, each family to itself, they have married
with their own blood, and the curse of the incest is upon them. But
cross that narrow channel and enter our own motherland, at least the
grandmother land of most of us here, and what a different condition is
presented there ! We have our motherland, but we delight to think of
the grandmother-land from which our fathers came. Cross, I say, to
England, and if you choose — and I wish that you would — abide a
little while in the states of the Low Countries; for the history of those
Low Netherlands is, in the respects of v/hicli I am about to speak, almost
identical with that of England.
If you look at the origin of tbece people, on their little sandbars,
beginning to wrest from the ocean the patrimony which they have be-
queathed to their children, building in the course of successive cen-
turies those dykes which have cost more than If they had been erected
of solid brass from their foundation to their top, you will find that it
was the blood of a free people of different blood driven on the one hand
by the encroachments of the Koman empire, and on the other by the
tyranny of feudal oppressors ; yes, you will find that it was the com-
bination of the blood of free people that made the early cities of
Holland what they were ; that taught them the combination of mutual
rights ; and, above all, taught them that union of free independent
sovereignties from which our fathers learned the best secrets of our
own unparalleled prosperity. It may be more familiar, however, to
the memory of those to whom I speak — for it is not every one that
has the courage to penetrate within the comparative obscurity which
is hung over the shores of the Dutch, and but for the recent brillian-
cies of genius which have been shed by Motley and Prescott upon their
history, we should know comparatively little of them.
Pass into England, and see what you have there. There are the
ancient Britons, and traces of a race, if not races, yet more ancient.
There you have the blood of the Saxons and the Angles, of the Danes
and the Normans, and the Flemings, and the fugitive Huguenots.
AMERICA THE HOME OF ALL RACES. 315
You have them mingled ; their names, the names of foreigners, stand
high in their annals ; and while the genuine Saxon is yet the basis of
the people, every contributor to a combined race has marked its hon-
orable position high amidst the catalogue of the nobles and the clergy
and the learned jurists.
But sir, what has made England what she is ? Men are proud to
talk of Anglo-Saxon blood ; men are proud to talk of commercial
enterprise, and all that sort of thing ; but I go behind Anglo-Saxon
blood ; I go to that which inspires enterprise, commerce, to the
minglement of bloods in the British people. That is what has made
them what they are. And here sir, God in this land of ours is work-
ing out a far more majestic purpose. England may do very well for
an experiment upon a small scale, as a sculptor would model the gi-
gantic statue of his imagination in a lump of plaster ; but England is
too little, sir, for the outworking of God's providence in that respect.
There is a necessity for a wide continent, for a more comprehensive
system of government ; and God has found it here — found it here,
sir. He knew it from the foundation of the earth. He predestined
it when he predestined the triumph of his Son over all nations. God
has given us here the theatre for this stupendous development. Here
they come from all lands — all the children of our father Adam — all
objects of our Saviour's love — all brethren of the same humanity.
Here they come, talking as they land more languages, tenfold, than
the languages of Babel, but soon learn to coalesce in a common
tongue our noble English, which is to be the language of the whole
world. Yes, sir, here they come, the best bloods of all nations of
men — men who would rather be poor than under an oppressive gov-
ernment ; men who say, * Let me suffer, let the wife of my bosom
suffer, but let us find a home for our children where they can rise.'
These are the people that come to us, the more than noble army
of martyrs, men and women who suffer for posterity ; and as I be-
lieve, though they know it not, suffer for God in their coming across
the sea and in encountering the difficulties of a new land. These are
the people whom we arc to meet upon our shores. These are the
people who bring us elements of excellence from every race ; that
here we may see the vivacity of the Gaul, the staid independence of
the German, the athletic character and determination of the Briton, and
all the other varieties of human virtue combining to form, not
316 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
many nations, but one ; to make, as God in his grace made out of
the Jew and Gentile, out of all nations ' one new man : ' so making
peace ' between all nations.'
Now, sir, how are we going to bring these men into this union ?
It is by the power of the Bible which you print, by the power of that
blessed name ' Christos,' which brought tears to the eyes of every one
of you a moment since, the gospel which never fails to melt under the
force of Christian love and in the alembic of God's fervent truth, all
elements into one amalgam, that it may adorn with the most pre-
cious richness the brow of Christ, the King of nations and the King
of saints. We need the Bible to do this ; and the Bible will do it.
AVe can talk to them, sir. Go to Washington, go to your universities,
and tell them to give you the selection of their proudest men and
their most accomplished interpreters ; and all Washington and all
your universities combined cannot give us men that can talk to one-
tenth part of these people ; but your Society can talk to each of
them, be he what he may. Find out his country and his tongue, and
when he comes to your Society for his language, it is in your library ;
you have the Book of Life there for him ; give it to him.
Let us speak plainly of the claims of these people upon us. There
was, far back in the brief history of our beloved land, but not far
back in the history of the world's ages, a band of determined men
who cast the anchor of their little vessel near to a cold and barren
rock. The December winds were howling through their shrouds, and
scattering ice upon their decks, and they could scarcely hold their
canvass, which was frozen stiff as sheets of iron. They looked upon a
bleak shore ; they saw no trace of human brotherhood ; they heard
no sound of a human voice, except it be the howl which they kncAv
not whether it was a man or the wild beasts ; they saw no trace of
man, unless it might be some broken arrow whose barb was red with
human blood. They landed there; and on that rude and barren
shore they knelt as * strangers and foreigners ' unto the stranger's
God ; giving worship to him and to his kingdom, and trusting in
his providence.
Their story has had the advantage of more eloquence, more poeti-
cal illustration ; but not far from the same period there came those
more prosaic in their character, but not a whit less generous in their
noble virtues, to this very spot where we are met ; men who loved
GIVE STKANGEUR THE lUBLE. 317
their Bible ; men, every one of whom had their Bible clasped and
riveted, as though they \wre determined to keep the devil himself
from depriving them of their comforts ; men Avho before they had been
here many days, set up the worship of God in its simplicity ; — I mean
the men of Holland, who, in many respects, deserve the credit of be-
ing as much the moral progenitors of this land, as the pilgrim
fathers of New England, for whom such a monopoly of generation
has been claimed.
And there also came at successive times the Presbyterians from
England and Ireland, Scotland and France, with the church-loving
Cavaliers. They were all strangers ; but, O sir, what must have been
the thoughts of those pilgrims kneeling by that desert rock ! What
must have been the thoughts of those Hollanders as they knelt on the
shores of that narrow peninsula, which is now crowned with this ma-
jestic city ! Alone, far from their native land, far from the churches in
which their fathers worshipped, far from the familiar speech of neigh-
bor and friend — alone, alone, — yet not alone, for the ' Universal
Father' was with them, this was their consoling thought, that
wherever they went, whatever soil they touched, they got no farther
from God. They were as near Him on the shores of Plymouth, and
the Bay of Massachusetts — or whatever the name was at that period —
amidst the woods of Virginia, on the sea islands of Carolina, or among
the mountains of Pennsylvania ; they were as near God there as
though they knelt in the cathedral, whose flags had been hallowed by
the tread of the generations of a thousand years.
And this is what I ask you to do in my resolution for these people
who come here : meet them upon the shores ; meet them with that
one Word of God, which they can all understand, and which speaks
to all, and tells them they are not strangers, that God is here, that
the blessing of God upon the strangers, our fathers, is ready to rest
upon them, strangers though they seem, and upon their children for
ever ; and thus shall we call perfect a nation which shall present to
the world such a spectacle as no Papal universahsm, no Roman em-
pire, has ever equalled.
One word more : This is but a type again of that grandest triumph
of all, when God shall throw open the doors of his own House, with its
many mansions, for all his cliildren ; when, in a peace more joyous
than that which welcomed the long-wandering prodigal home, the
318 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUXE, D. D.
wide hall shall be filled for the banquet and the festival ; when there
shall come those of all kindreds, and cl-imes, and tongues, under
the face of the whole heavens : when all ages of the past, meeting with
all the ages of posterity, all time, all lands, all people, shall come to-
gether, no longer separated, no longer multiplicity, but one in Christ,
one in the love of God, through the Redeemer. O sir, I love to
think of that time ! How my soul goes out beyond the pettiness of
party strife ! How I seem to rise even in my littleness, as the morn-
ing bird on its light wing rises above the turmoil and hurly-burly of
men, to sing unto God! How my heart goes out, exults beyond all
these restrictions of a sinful world, and rejoices, as I recognize myself
no longer a citizen of a narrow province, no longer as confined in my
nationality to a few brother tribesmen, but as one of the vast family of
God, the universal family of faith in Christ Jesus. How I rejoice
as I anticipate that day when I shall be welcomed as I come near
my Father's threshold — for we shall not come unwelcomed there —
when I shall be welcomed by all these people that the religion of
Christ has taught me to love upon earth ; nay, when not only these
people, but when all the tribes of God's creation, when the inhabi-
tants of distant worlds, that have looked upon us with interest like
that of the angels, when these shall come in from every province of
God's universal empire, his spiritual children, we shall be one, gathered
together in Christ, the Son of God, and therefore heir of all things ;
the Son of Man, and therefore our Elder Brother — when we shall be
all gathered together in one, and God be the Father, and his glory
the joy of the universe for ever."
ANONYMOUS ATTACK. 319
CHAPTER Xn.
ANONYMOUS ATTACK.
Our search among the papers of Dr. Bethune has brought
us up to the beginning of the year 1855. He was a man like
the rest of us, and did not escape calumny. During the hol-
idays he had attended a dinner of the St. Nicholas Society,
where, according to Mr. H. T. Pierrepont " his speech was
of a much more serious order than was usual at our anniver-
saries ; he spoke as a true son of New York and gave many
references to history to the credit of the Dutch Nation."
Yet, because he attended a public dinner, a paragraph
appeared in a Hartford paper in which the writer, under the
secure cover of " anonymous," made insinuations against
Dr. B. both gross and cruel. This attack called forth a
storm of indignation from all quarters ; and perhaps the pastor
would not have known how many true and appreciating
friends he had, had it not been for this unjustifiable slander.
But apart from his well-ordered and scholarly speech, the
laborious and exemplary life of the Doctor is the best reply ;
indeed it were scarcely worth while to make a record of it
except as one of the sore trials to which his sensitive nature
was exposed, and to get his view of such attacks. Probably
no two men when made the object of such moral assassination
behave in the same way. One, who was in the habit of find-
ing such jets of venom among his morning letters, when he
did not know the hand looked for the signature, and when
320 MEMOIR OF GEO. Vr. BETIIUNE, D. D.
he saw none, instantly dropped the paper into the fire, and
that was the end of it. But not every one has this self-
command, while many of these poisonous stabs are delivered
through the medium of the dail}^ press.
The editor who lends himself to the transaction is rarely
worth powder and shot, and the intended victim cannot
always obtain redress. It may, perhaps, not be uninterest-
ing to our readers to see one of the ways in which a '' vcn-
omed stab" is sometimes parried, and we insert a few
paragraphs which were found in Dr. B's handwriting among
his papers ; although we have no certainty that it was writ-
ten in reference to the present occasion, it carries its own
commentary.
TO AMERICANUSC?).
"You have written an anonymous letter, a dishonorable act which
none but a coward would be guilty of. I might well take no heed of
a charge so silly, coming from a source so mean, and should not, but
for charity to point out the injustice you have done, that you may be
deterred from writing anonymously again.
You must be strangely ignorant to suppose that a speaker (unex-
pectedly called upon) toward the close of a long, excited meeting,is
responsible for the very words into which a tired reporter condenses his
remarks. Had you been present you would have known that I was
the most reluctant speaker of the evening, and that a hoarseness com-
pelled me to stop suddenly. This is stated in one, at least, of the
newspapers. Had you heard me you would also have known that I
levelled the charges of gross immoralitj' against the Continental des-
pots who are combining against the freedom of the people. The re-
porter of the Express lias lefl out Continental but retained the sense.
Is Victoria of Continental Europe, is she a despot ? Is she one qi the
conspirators against the freedom of the people?
As for the conspiring despots, I excepted Nicholas, whose personal
habits are chaste ; but of which of the rest can it be said that they are
not vile, murderous, or perjured ! My charge did not include the
reigning houses of Sweden, Spain, Portugal ; liut you know little of
ADVICE TO AN ANONYMOUS WPJTER. 321
present history, if you consider them other than debauched persons.
You might make a stand for the weak but obstinate King of Prussia,
whose personal life is not impure, had I not spoken of families or dy-
nasties rather than single Individuals ; yet he is ' steeped in perjuries '
with the * blood of thousands ' on his deceitful soul.
Your last accusation is as ridiculous as it is false. Assuming (what
is utterly untrue even according to the report in the Express) that I
intended the Queen of Great Britain in my denunciation, you charge
me with ' traducing the land of my forefathers.' Is the Queen of Great
Britain or her court, the land of my ancestors ? If I should say, as I
might, that George IV., all the Georges except the III., were de-
bauched, would that be calumniating Scotland^ I am a Scotchman
sir, a title I value next to that of an American, by birth. I have never
spoken of Scotland but with affectionate praise. No deserving per-
son with a Scotch accent has ever asked my help and been refused it.
When Scotland was threatened with famine, I wrote the Pennsylva-
nian Address which brought in for her relief $28,000. Of that sum
my immediate personal exertions raised $1,200; and now I am ac-
cused by a malicious anonymous green-horn with calumniating the
land of my fathers !
You sign yourself Americanus ; but I cannot believe that you are
a native-born citizen, though, possibly, you may have been natu-
ralized.
You will, perhaps, think my language to you uncharitably harsh
and so, unbecoming ; but you are beyond the pale of charity. You are
not a many but an anonymous thing. You have no name, and, there-
fore, no character, no conscience, no feelings. You excuse yourself by
saying that a public speech is open to public comments ; but you are
not the public, your charges are not public, you could not make them
public without assuming a responsibility from which you hide ; while a
public speaker stands out openly. Had you written to me over your
own name as a gentleman, I would gladly have responded kindly and
set you right.
Take my advice and never write another anonymous letter. It is a
crime which nolhing can justify, except it be in reply to what is anony-
mous. If you have anything which you feel bound to say, put your
name to it, and it will have as much respect as your name is worth ;
21
322 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUXE, D. D.
but if you say what you are ashamed or afraid to indorse with your
credit, you make yourself either a coward, or a knave, or both."
However unjustifiable, however silly, still there is a
wonderful power in an evil report ; it will travel much
farther and be more eagerly related than the consistent life
of godliness.
In the middle of the year the pastoral relation with the
*' Church on the Heights'' became disturbed. To external
appearance that church was in the highest state of prosper-
it3\ Its services were well sustained, and the audiences
crowded, its benevolence large, and Sunday schools expand-
ing, but the anxious eye of the pastor beheld signs of alarm.
Contrary to his advice, the edifice had been more costly
than was intended, and a heavy debt rested upon it ; this
made it necessary to place a high rental upon the seats, and
caused dissatisfaction. Perhaps the spiritual state of the
cono-rearation was not as hip^h as the earnest soul of the
minister, although in this respect it was not inferior to
others equally surrounded with social temptations, and oc-
cupied with business cares. We are not then surprised to
hear that a proposition from certain New York brethren to
Dr. Bethune, praying him to come over and help them to
build up a church in Ninth street, was early listened to
with favor. There must have been a great attraction in
New York as the metropolis of the nation, but more, he was
her favorite son. When he was assailed by cynics in Phil-
adelphia, he only appeared in New York, and an immense
audience rose and greeted him with rounds of applause ; and
never had he come to his native city without finding re-
sponsive and loving hearts to welcome him. "Dear New
York," he exclaimed, " Few of you can remember it as I do,
"when we ran down the Flattenberg on our little sleighs, or
LETTER TO HIS BROOKLYN CONSISTORY. 323
skated on Lispenard's meadows and Barr's pond, and
through Leonard street, up town. It is my birthplace, the
home of my j^outh, and the asylum of my earliest affec-
tions." The flattering' invitation to his home was serious
and business-like, quite sufficiently so as to necessitate imme-
diate action. The first step was to prepare a communica-
tion for the consistory of his church — a paper very decided
in tone, and which would imply that the pastor had made
up his mind to sever the relation ; but this paper being
placed in the hands of a prudent friend, Mr. F. I. Hosford,
was probably at his remonstrance withdrawn, and in the
middle of September, the greatly modified letter, which we
subjoin, was transmitted to his church officers :
To THE COXSISTORT OF THE ClIURCH ON THE HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN, L. I.
" DearBkethren : — It is not without pain that I address you on a
subject which occasions my deep solicitude, and now requires your
kind, candid consideration.
I inclose a communication laid before me by a number of gentle-
men, friendly to the Dutch church, in Xew York, which sufficiently
explains its object and importance as relating to the interests of our
denomination, and to myself, as one of its ministers.
You will agree with me, that while our immediate connection may
be with a particular congregation, we owe, under God, allegiance to
the church at large, and that our personal convenience or preferences
should not bias our judgment respecting the larger duty.
Our first question in all cases should be directed to Him whose we
are, and whom we should serve: "Lord, what wilt thou have us
to do.^" Yet among the methods of ascertaining the answer of
heavenly wisdom, not the least is taking Christian comisel of wise
men, especially of those whose official position gives them ecclesiasti-
cal authority, and whose tried friendship assures their sincerity. In
this spirit I ask your advice, and hope that you will give It.
The expediency of my attempting by divine help, the building up
of a church in New York under the present auspices, is argued at
324 MEMOIU OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D, D.
length in the communication of our friends — -and, as you are not ig-
norant of the circumstances, I need say nothing further on that point.
The effect, which such a transfer of my services would have on our
church in Brooklyn, you are of all persons the best able to judge of;
consequences are in the hands of God, and our part is to do our du-
ty, leaving results to Him.
I may, however, and should speak frankly of myself, as the one
whose action is to be determined.
There are reasons, which so far as I can allow my personal feelings
and private relations to sway me, urge me to go to New York. The
hope of being better able to watch over the comfort of my beloved
mother, now very aged and infirm, is a consideration that bears
strongly upon me. She will not come to me in Brooklyn (and she
has reasons for this, the force of which I cannot deny,) and so, if we
are to be near each other, I should go to her in New York.
I have also some warm and attached friends in my native city,
whose society I am now almost wholly deprived of, among whom it
would be very pleasant to spend my declining years.
I cannot but think, — I liave long thought, that I am not adapted as
a man or a minister, in the pulpit or out of it, to the community of
Brooklyn, and that my usefulness suffers by the prejudices (to use a
mild word) wdiich surround me. Human nature is mainly every-
where the same, but a larger sphere v/ould be likely to contain more
of those who, for any reasons, might prefer to avail themselves of my
ministry, and sympathize with the course which my conscience binds
me to pursue. My residence in Brooklyn has not been a happy one,
and neither my church nor my house there, free from painful associa-
tions.
When the enterprise of our church was begun, I entered into it
with expectations which I supposed warranted, and with distinctly
avowed plans concerning ray views of duty, as well as of church poli-
cy. The disappointments that follov,'ed greatly embarrassed me, dis-
tracting my mind and heart, occupying my time, and (still worse)
throwing me sometimes into opposition of views entertained by some,
if not of all, of you brethren. As I had carefully and explicitly de-
clared at the beginning the methods which I should feel bound to
pursue, I have kept to them ; and although you have iiad much con-
sideration for my convictions, I fear that somethues I may have been
regarded as too persistent, if not unreasonable.
REASONS FOR A CHANGE. 325
My position has, in consequence, been painful, liable to reproacli, and
disagreeable surmise, and is likely to continue so as long as I retain it.
I should, perhaps it may be said, have acted in view of this at an earlier
period ; but our friend Mr. M. will tell you, that at the time alluded
to, I put into his hands, for presentation to you, what was equivalent to a
resignation, which at his dissuasion I did not press. I wish it, however,
to be distinctly understood, that I was then, and have always been, ready
myself to withdraw, rather than that any one of the congregation should
consider my remaining inconsistent with their right.
Disappointment in the plans on which I felt myself warranted in unit-
ing with the enterprise of a church at Brooklyn, has severely embar-
rassed me in various ways ; and now, should I remain with you, will put
me to the necessity of some severe toils, which I might avoid by a change
of pulpit.
I am now fifty years old, and ministers at my time of life do not often
receive calls from such churches as are adapted to their habits, and
should I refuse the present opportunity, and, subsequently feel myself
obliged to resign my present charge, I should be most probably obliged
to retire from pastoral duty.
I cannot conceal from you, that the poor attendance in our lecture-
room has given me much anxiety. It would seem that I have not the
power to draw our people to their devotional services on week evenings.
My remonstrances, varied in every way I could tliink of, have, as the
result shows, been regarded with indifference ; and that, not by the care-
less only, but those prominent in both church and congregation. I have
been accustomed (and I think rightly) to consider such a state of things
as indicative of a decay in the power of a pastor over the people, and
that the cause of it lies in liim, rather than in them. Without a revival
in the devotional services of the church, we cannot hope for a blessing.
Let me then go, brethren, rather than remain, if I am in the way of
spiritual good to you ani the people. I have done, in the lecture-room,
as well as I could, pnd so cannot promiGC to do better.
Brethren, I have opened my heart to you frankly. Perhaps, jou will
think me unduly sensitive, on some points, at least. But we ministers
are a sensitive race ; some of us, it may be, more so than others. Our
wealth lies in principles, affections and sentiments. There we are most
vulnerable, and suffer most. IMy former pastoral history has been such
as to unfit mc for trials, before never eucountered.
326 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
On the other hand, there are strong motives disinclining me to leave
Brooklyn.
When I began with the pressure of an enormous debt, which, con-
trary to what I had supposed an understood agreement, had been put
upon us, I did not do it otherwise than in a spirit of self-sacrifice, in-
tending to try the desperate experiment, and afterwards seek compara-'
tive rest elsewhere. But as I pursued my Avork, my heart grew to it,
and to the people who gatliered under my care. The numbers guided
into the fold by my pastoral hand, the unaffected kindness manifested to
me by many, the scenes of joy and sorrow in which I have sympathized
with them, the memories of the precious dead, whom living I had learned
to love, the attention not unfrequently accorded to my Sabbath teach-
ings, the faithful zeal of our young people in enterprises of religious
charity, the prayers that have been put up for me, and the prayers I have
put up for you all, the very pains, and sufferings, and reproaches, and
labors I have gone through for your sake, all have endeared me to some
of you, but far more have endeared you all to me.
The Sabbath school and missionary enterprises, recently begun and
carried on by our people under your lead, brethren, have done more
than anything else in our history, to soothe my anxieties. We can
never despair of a church, which puts the cause of mercy first, and it-
self second. If such is to be your future policy, you will have 'the
blessing, whatever else happens to you.
The recent, and, as I understand, (inform me if I am mistaken) suc-
cessful effort to pay all the debt of the church, excepting that for the
ground, puts us, financially, just where I was promised that we should
be when the churcli was complete. Only now, is the church pecuniarily
in the condition in which alone I engaged to be its minister. We have
passed through sad trials to reach this point. But the character of the
effort which has thrown off the incubus that lay so heavily and long on
our strength, has deeply affected me. So many have united, and all
of them contributed so liberally, so much more liberally than we
could have hoped, that I regard your congregation as strong, harmoni-
ous, consolidated, and of a most generous spirit. I should be most in-
sensible, did I not feel personally and warmly grateful for the satisfac-
tion derived from the result, but especially from the persons and means
by which it has been reached.
COUNSEL REQUESTED. 327
I am also most conveniently domesticated in the house provided by
the kind care of many friends, for the comfort of my invalid wife and
myself. I can never hope to find a dwelling better adapted to our pe-
culiar necessities ; and although, with all its attractions, it has been the
occasion to me, in some respects, of pain, in other respects, of embarass-
ment, yet it is very pleasant to us as a memorial of kindness, and has
been hallowed by many an hour of domestic enjoyment and religious re-
tirement.
Thus, you see, my brethren, how my feelings and preferences alter-
nate. I wish to do my duty. I wish to forget, so far as I can, all but
the kindness I have received and the happiness I have enjoyed. I can
truly say that no ambitious motives tempt me. I wish to do my duty,
and in circumstances where I shall be least hindered in acting out what
are now to me inflexible rules of duty.
If it be my duty to go to the enterprise now proposed to me, and at-
tempt to build up, before my work on earth is done, another church for
my Master's honor, I am ready to go ; but I shall not tear myself away
from my present charge without a bleeding heart.
If it be my duty to remain with you, I am ready to do so with affec-
tionate zeal ; though it will be at a sacrifice of private relationships, and
temporal interests— of the latter, more than appears on the surface.
Brethren, notwithstanding my errors and infirmities, you are my
friends. You are the friends of the Dutch Church. You are the over-
seers of the flock dear to us all. Advise me as a man and as a minister.
I shrink from doing anything that may provoke your censure ; nay I am
unwilling to do — I cannot do anything in this matter without your approv-
al.
But I expect from you the conscientious exercise of large and liberal
judgment. Whatever be the result, I trust that we shall ever be united
in the best bonds !
Your brother and servant in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ,
George W. Bethcne.
Claveeack, September 13, 1855."
The answer was promptly as follows
328 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
*' Consistory room or the Church on the Heights.
Brooklyn, Sept. 17, 1855.
George W. Bethune. D. D.
Reverend and dear sir : The Consistory of this church have re-
ceived, and endeavored in the fear of God, and with love for his church,
and for you their pastor, to give to your communication of the 13th inst.,
and the accompanying documents, that attention which the nature and
importance of the subject demanded, and which you so candidly request-
ed ; and although, from the necessity that existed, imperious as it seemed
to them of an early answer, they have been unable so fully to present
their views and arguments as otherwise they might have done, yet, they
feel a greater confidence in this expression of their views, from the fact
that they are the unanimous conviction of the members of the Consistory.
We do indeed, in the language of your communication, feel ourselves
your ' friends'. Yv^e trust the views we suggest for your adoption, are
such as will, if acted upon, prove us your judicious advisers.
It is almost impossible for us on this subject — a matter so dear to our
hearts — to lay aside all personal desires and influences, but we have en-
deavoured impartially, as the friends of the Church to which we belong,
and as the 'overseers of the flock dear to us all', to meet the question,
you so fairly and frankly present.
Candour compels us to admit that there is great force and weight in
the arguments presented by the gentlemen who have invited you to the
field of usefulness in New York : and we use no flattering words when
we say that we cannot reasonably doubt that your abilities and eloquence
would soon draw around you in that commercial metropolis, a congre-
gation in which you would doubtless be happy and useful to a great
degree, while your presence there, would, we feel well assured, be of
great service to the interests of the Dutch Church. We are not then
blind or deaf to the prospects in that communication opened, nor to the
views by those gentlemen expressed. Nor are we unmindful, dear sir,
of the peculiar temptations and trials that have befallen you while with
us ; temptations and trials, not easily to be borne we admit ; but in which
you have had our sympathies, and those of the whole congregation — and
which we now fondly hope are removed, so that they will no more
trouble you hereafter.
We feel persuaded, dear sir, that you do yourself, if not the inhabi-
LETTER OF THE CONSISTORY. 329
tantsof this city, injustice in supposing them incopable or umvilling to
appreciate your services in their midst ; and we trust the reasons we
shall presently urge, will eradicate effectually any such impressions from
your mind. When first, dear sir, it was proposed to you to become a
pastor of a church in this city, it was with hesitation, almost amounting
to a conviction that you would not accept it, that the Henry street church
sought for your aid ; and never can we forget, (whatever may be the final
result) how unselfishly you put from you, other honorable, pressing,
responsible positions, that you might give your energies, and devote the
talents with which God had so liberally endowed you, towards the up-
building of a weak, nay almost wholly broken-down church. You remem-
ber, doubtless, as well as we, the position of that church as you found it ;
but you do not, cannot know, as do some of us, the labors and struggles
and efforts and prayers that had been made and offered, before it reached
that sad condition — and apparently all had been in vain. Vv^'hen, thanks
be to God, (for it was He alone who inclined your heart to it,) you
entered into that then almost forsaken church, and became a shepherd to
that flock, then without a shepherd's care. But if such was the condition
of that particular church, what was the condition of the Dutch Church at
large in this city and vicinity, prior to your advent? This was, sir, or
rather should have been, a strong-hold of the Dutch Church. But where
was its strength ?
To particularize, would be invidious ; but we ask you, sir, frankly,
where was there a flourishing Dutch church when you came among us ?
And now, what is its state ? Can you not, sir, see its growth ; new
churches where there were none before, strong churches where before
there were weak ones, increased liberality of the former churches to
benevolent objects, and a respect for the denomination in the community
at large ? And all this, we cannot deny it, since you came. Shall we
not say that, under God, you, dear sir, have been in a great measure
the honoured means of infusing this spirit, and bringing about tliis result?
We do not doubt it. And is all this nothing accomplished ? Is this work
quite done ? We look in faith for greater things.
But all this, had our own church not prospered, might have been
of little avail in this expression of our views. An attentive observer
of men and manners, as you are, cannot have failed of noticing ere
this, that the population of Brooklyn, as a whole, is composed of that
330 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
class of society, wlio are of middle life, and who not having yet (as a
general thing) attained to any considerable wealth, are active, pros-
pering, and vigorous ; they are of that class whose future is full of
promise. More, too, than ordinarily are they attached to their
churches and church-privileges, and but little do they look for those
sources of public, united, and social pleasures, which are sought for
in other cities.
As a consequence of this state of things, it has followed, as of
course, that dependant so much upon, and devoted so much to their
church -privileges, the}^ have been gifted with a class of Divines of
rarely equalled ability and worth. And it was needful that our
denomination should, in this respect, be able to take a position with
the other tribes. But this very fact, conjoined with a precedence
that the other denominations had acquired over ours, by reason of
our slothfulness and inactivity, rendered the undertaking by no means
an easy one, of establishing a new church in the midst of a city
already so thickly settled with churches. Nor could we, nor would
we, do otherwise, God helping us, than erect a building, which,
while it would be worthy of our position, should be a temple beauti-
ful as it ought to be for the worship of our God, and the honor of His
name.
In addition to all this, it should not be forgotten that, although the
Henry Street Church had, by the time you came there, become very
much scattered, yet your coming among them, while it united them
all readily, also made them feel the need of a larger place of worship,
where more could enjoy your ministrations. This brought with it the
necessity of buying and building, with its attendant expenses ; and
the following necessity of gathering together from the community a
surplus congregation, to fill a much larger than the old building.
The history of the enterprise it is unnecessary to relate ; the
liberality of the people was much more than in proportion to their
means, and the building progressed. Nor were you, dear sir, with
gratitude we remember it, ever wanting in your sympathy and co-
operation. The subsequent serious failure of one of the artificers,
the inadequate estimate of the cost, and the ever attendant contingent
and unexpected expenses incidental to a building of this magnitude,
presented, when it was completed, the unhappy truth to the minds
of the people, that, while they had a beautiful place of worship, and
LETTER OF THE CONSISTORY. 331
a minister whose services they could not too highly appreciate, they
were greatly, sadly indebted. This was doubtless a source of great
evil to the church, of embarrassment to yourself (not the less so,
because contrary to your well-founded expectations), and has, we
cannot deny it, been the fountain from which have flowed the bitter
waters that have seemed, at times, destined to destroy our prosperity.
No doubt, many persons have been prevented by the fact of this debt
alone, from forming a connection with us, and have gone to other
churches, free or freer of embarrassment, who would have been, to
us, of great service by their counsel and prayers.
But now, thanks be to God, this source of trouble, anxiety and
vexation, is removed, blotted out, a,nd will no more harass our
minds, or stand as a beacon warning, those outside of our church to
remain clear from us and free from our troubles.
It is not necessary to repeat to you, dear sir, how this has been
effected. Suffice it to say, that, but for you, we believe it could not
have been done. It were idle to deny that our church is, much of it,
composed of your personal admirers ; those who have no particular
sympathy for the Dutch Church, but great affection and regard for
you, and your ministrations. Those who, should you leave us, would
speedily leave us, too ; and who, but that they had supposed you
intended to remain with us, would have left us, unaided and alone, in
this our time of embarrassment. Indeed, sir, the moment that the
late unauthorized rumor got abroad, that you intended removing, all
efforts lo progress in the liquidation of the debt were paralyzed ; and
it was not until an assurance that the rumor was false had restored
confidence again, that the committee were finally enabled to accom-
plish their much-desired and zealously-pursued object.
And now, dear sir, with your efforts, with God's blessing, what
may we not look for? If, in our weakness, our love and liberality
have abounded, what may we not expect now that we are strong, and
have every reason to look for a large accession to our church from
outside sources.
You have doubtless observed, sir, as have we, the constant growth
of our city, in the vicinity of our church ; a growth that must result,
as it progresses, for the filling up of our own and other churche.^.
You likewise, in looking around the church, and seeing the few old
persons and great numbers of young, middle-aged and children,
332 MEMOm OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
cannot but have great and reasonable hopes for the prosperity of our
church, from those who are now in early years, and who, as they
attain to man's estate, will serve God, we trust, in their day and
generation.
Nor should we, nor can we, pass by the spiritual welfare of our
church, best known to you, but gladly acknowledged by us.
Dear pastor, can you look on those gathered into the fold through
your ministrations, and not feel that you have been doing a work for
God ? and can you believe that he has yet called you from this vine-
yard, so needing your care, to untried fields ?
And the liberality of our church, of which so gratefully you have
sjDoken oftentimes. It is not, of course, such as that of wealthier
congregations, but in the sight of God, we are judged in our gifts as
to that we have, not as to that we have not. And is there anywhere,
in any church, a greater spii^it of liberality, than ours has shown ?
And who but you, dear sir, under God, has implanted and cultivated
this spirit, and what future fruits may it not bring forth ?
Then, too, sir, where will you find so faithful a band of the young
men ' who are strong, and in whom the Word of God abideth,' as
here ? Some of them , indeed, the fruits of your own ministry, and
all nourished and fed by you. Active in every good word and work,
ready to communicate are they ; apt to teach, and faithful in those
good works in which we know your soul delights.
But, dear sir, they need your fostering care still, and the enterprises
in which they are engaged need your voice and counsel, or we fear
for their ultimate success.
And now, dear friend and pastor, with prosperity in our circum-
stances, with God's blessing resting upon us, as we believe, with efforts
to do good successfully at work and multiplying, with great hopes and
confidence for the future, with a home in which we hope you may have
much of happiness, and with our great labor accomplished, (thanks once
more to Giod for it, who has inclined the libei-al hearts of his people)
we, the trustees of this church, to whom its interests are committed, are
to advise whether we shall voluntai-ily consent to break up all this, to
c-urrender the instrument by whose aid all this, under God, has been ac-
complished, the leader with whom we have come through our dangers
into this promised land, that he may go elsewhere to incur new labor,
to enter into new and untried fields, and to assume new responsibilities.
DR. bethune's reply. 333
Dear sir, can we with faithfulmess to this church, consent to allow
you to leave us ? Would we not in so doing, verily be guilty before God
and this people ? We cannot. We dare not. Wc pray you stay with
us, we entreat you not to leave us. May our people be your people,
may God himself be our God.
With sentiments of greatest affection, sympathy and esteem, We are,
Dear Sir,
Your friends and fellow laborers.
James Myers.
John T. Moore.
Peter Durtee.
T. J. HosroRD.
S. B. Stewart.
J. A. Nixsen.
Oscar D. Dike.
Livingston K. Miller."
'<To THE consistory OF THE CHURCH ON THE HEIGHTS. BROOKLYN.
Dear Brethren : I received on Wednesday last, your answer to my
communication, requesting your Christian and friendly counsel on the
question whether I should or should not accede to the proposal from
New York that I should co-operate with a number of gentlemen in
undertaking to build up a new church there. You arc entitled to my
hearty thanks, whicli I beg you to receive, for the very kind and patient
manner in which you have addressed me ; and, on my part, I have given
to your views my careful and prayerful consideration. The result is
that I shall decline the invitation from New York, and send the good
gentlemen from whom I received it, a reply to such effect this day.
It becomes me, however, to say in all candor, that I have not reached
this conclusion without anxious fears lest I might mistake the path of
duty, and that I have been determined mainly by your determination.
You have, and I have, we trust, endeavored to act conscientiously, and
we must pray God to forgive any error of judgment into Avhich we may
unwittingly have fallen. If you could have been prevailed on to allow
of my removal, I am persuaded, that, with the blessing vouchsafed to
Christian endeavors, a new congregation of our church would be gath-
ered which might net a little subserve the cause of truth, and of our
334 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
denomination in that great city; nor can I deny that I turn from the op-
portunity of such enlarged usefulness with lingering regret. Our rela-
tions, official and personal, are of such a sacred and affectionate char-
acter, that I could not go without your approval, and since such ap-
proval has been (though in the kindest terms) withheld, you have taken
from me the largest share of responsibility.
I am also sensible to a degree that you cannot be, of having, in com-
pliance with your wishes, imposed on myself future labors, fitted neither
to my years nor my circumstances ; but I look for my compensation, to
the pleasure of obeying you whom I love, and of continuing to serve a
people, every one of whom is dear to me, for reasons which will never
cease to live in my heart. Those reasons I detailed to you in my pre-
vious letter, and feel now more strongly even than before. Be assured,
brethren, that I resume my pastoral care, for a little while suspended in
thought, with an honest desire to do my duty hopefully and cheer-
fully.
I am obliged to add, that while I yield to the conclusion you have
reached, I do not fully agree in all the views you have expressed; but
retain most of the convictions stated in my letter. You will not believe
me blind to the gratifying fact, that my ministrations are acceptable, far
beyond their merit, to a large, perhaps increasing congregation ; but I
am not more than I was, persuaded of my adaptation to the community
of Brooklyn. You have, in your reply, substituted ' appreciation,' for
adaptation, the term used by me. I deserve little appreciation ; but
there are varieties in the character of communities, as in soils, requiring
varieties of culture. My education, habits of thought and language,
views of Christian policy, and methods of action, differ widely from
those of the large majority of the community in which we live. The
discrepancy exposes me to many an awkwardness, and to worse. Here,
again, I shall need your support, and it may be, defence.
There are many things in the spirit and enterprise of a large part of
our church, which call for thanksgiving and joy, particularly, as you
say, the exemplary conduct of our younger Christians ; but, oh ! breth-
ren, the thinness of our prayer-meetings, tells another and a sadder
story. I do not speak of the attendance on my weekly lectures, though
it has tried me sorely, since that may be the fault of the preacher,
though God knows I have tried to do my best. It is the union of the
DR. bethune's reply. 335
people in social prayer, which gives to their minister the most cheering
expectation of blessing. Let us ourselves set an example of greater
engagedness, and we may hope for that of others.
You allude to the way in which our heavy debt was contracted, and
I fully appreciate your honorable motive for speaking as you have
done ; nor would I offer a remark on a subject which has already given
all of us too much pain, were it not that your letter and mine which it
answers will be preserved, on file or record of your body so (uninten-
tionally on your part) making my statements to appear like inconsid-
erate or immoderate complaints. Permit me, therefore, to remind
you that * the inadequate estimate of cost,'' did not occur without
remonstrance and warning from me at the earliest moment (of which
proof exists), and that nothing intervened to lessen, as I think, the
obligation, of the promise (on which I relied and without which I
should never have joined the enterprise) that no debt except for the land,
should remain when the church was dedicated. I could not be held
responsible for errors against which I remonstrated, or for mistakes
when I was not consulted. Neither do I think that the pecuniary
obligation was the worst part of the difficulties springing from the debt,
but believe that a greater degree of mutual confidence would have
enabled us long before this to have extricated ourselves from the trou-
ble. I do not say this, brethren, so much for the present as for the
future that when any eye in other years may glance over the documents
of this crisis, I may suffer no wrong. I trust with you that no root of
bitterness may spring up from the past to try us again.
Dear brethren, though I have written thus plainly, my heart assures
you of its most affectionate response, to all your warm words. Trou-
ble is inevitable, and often the narrow way is thickest strewn with
thorn and thistle ; but Christian love and truth like yours are among
the richest consolations aiTorded us by our sympathizing Lord. I fully
rely on your assurances of regard and cooperation, offering you mine
Avithout reserve. Let us pray for God's grace to sanctify past expe-
riences, and, forgetting all that is behind except his goodness and our
unworthiness, let us reach forward to things that are before, looking
unto Jesus who is now seated at the right hand of the Majesty on high,
whither all the articles of our faith lead us.
Brethren, my heart's prayer and desire for our people is that they
may be saved !
336 MEMOIR OF GEO, W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Pray for me that out of my weakness strength may abound unto
you and yours from God our Father, by Jesus Christ our Lord,
through the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Your brother and servant in the kingdom
and patience of Jesus Christ,
Geo. W. Bethune.
Brooklyn, Sept. 22, 1855."
This decision gave general satisfaction. The matter was
not understood in its details by the public at large, but now
that there was a thorough understanding between pastor and
people, it seemed as if the connection between Dr. Bethune
and his church would be inseparable. Brooklyn rejoiced
over the result, and public feeling was displayed in various
ways.
One evening the Doctor was crossing by the Fulton
Ferry ; upon entering the cabin he found all the seats occu-
pied, when a thick, husky voice cried, '' Dr. Bethune, Dr.
Bethune." Turning in its direction he found a man stand-
ing, who said, "Doctor, take my seat; it is an honor to
give such a man a seat ; ever since I heard of that big
church in New York trying to get you away by giving a call
of five thousand dollars, and you said, you'd see 'em d — d
first, I have had great respect for you, and I tliink it an
honor to give you a seat.'' It is needless to say that the
well-meaning man was not in a condition to judge of the
terms most appropriate for such an interview.
Tiie Church on the Heights now went steadily onward in
a career of unwonted prosperity, God blessed the preaching
of his servant to the salvation of many, and the edification of
his saints. The Sunday schools increased, and soon a mis-
sion chapel was originated ; in fact his influence was
exerted vigorously in extending his denomination by a line
of churches from Greenwood to Newton Creek.
LETTER FROM DR. TAYLOR. 337
Perhaps we shall find no more suitable place to introduce
the following incidents :
Dr. Taylor to Dr. Bethune. ''Philadelphia, Jan. 4, 1858.
My Dear Dr. Bethune : Soon after my removal to this city, when
my study was located in the church edifice, 1 found among some old
books in a closet, a small edition of the Book of Common Prayer, on
the fly leaf of which your name was written just seven months before
my 1 ttle eye saw the light of this world, namely, Jan. 1st, 1823. For
your sake, as well as its own, I have kept it in good company on shelf
and table, and sometimes, I trust that the fragrance of its precious
things has perfumed a spirit that needed some such refreshment. Al-
though neither of us is an Episcopalian, I trust that we have both
grace and taste enough to appreciate what is excellent and venerable
in the fair old symbol."
Dr. Taylor was minister of the 3d Reformed Dutch Church
in Philadelphia, and a passage from his funeral sermon for
Dr. Bethune will be the best possible commentary upon
the above letter.
" A little sentence," says the preacher, " I found in-
scribed by his own pen in 1823, in a small and almost worn-
out copy of the Book of Common Prayer, which had been
left by him on a quiet shelf in the study of this edifice. He
thought it lost, but when informed of it, he wrote me that
this volume, the gift of a dear relative, had been the sweet
guide of his soul when first he found the Saviour. It was
returned to him, and long afterwards was one of his pre-
cious treasures. Since his death, an intimate friend has
furnished me the same short prayer, copied from the Doc-
tor's pocket Bible. It comes to us, therefore, under the
double sanction of his Bible and his Prayer Book, and con-
firms our impression of his stamp of piety. These are the
words, proper words for any believing sinner in life and
death— w^ords which are emphasized to-night by his infir-
338 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE. D. D.
mities, his struggles, his labors, his hopes, and his passage
into the sinless life :
' Lord pardon Avliat I have been ; sanctify what I am ; and order what
1 shall be, that thine may be the glory, and mine the eternal salvation,
through Christ our Lord." '
These words, from one of the ancient fathers, are insepa-
rably connected with Dr. Bethune, in the memory of all who
knew him, and of maay wlio have only heard of him ; and al-
though they were selected from another, still of two men who
walk along the way, one will pick up a bit of rock crystal,
because it is large, and the other will stoop for a precious
stone, because his trained eye recognizes its nobility of
lustre.
Our Doctor's speech, his discourses, lectures, sermons,
and speeches, were thick with gems thus g-atliered, for
his memory was not only retentive, but likewise well
ordered, and tlie shelves accessible.
We would willingly hope that the quiet which evidently
reigned within about the time that this little remembrancer
of the past came safely back, enabled him the better to give
the consolation, of which Mrs. Bethune stood in need, for
the afflicting death of her father, Col. Williams, which took
place in March of this year. The house in Brooklyn was a
house of mourning. A short and emphatic letter goes from
it to assure its good friend, Dr. Dunglison, that he is not
included among those whqse presence would be intrusive.
These two of the original "five'' lived very near each
other in soul, if not in body and a succession of notes ; those
from Brooklyn apparently in crucial characters, those from
Philadelphia resembling the cuneiform, were the means of
discussion, sometimes serious, sometimes facetious, upon
questions of orthography , orthoepy, etymology, syntax and
prosody.
1
QUESTIONS m ORTHOEPY. 339
Dr. Bethune was a very fine scholar, and did not hesi-
tate to call even the great Dunglison in question, when
there was any doubt of his soundness in orthoepy.
Dr. B. to Dr. Dunglison. " Dec. 21, 1857.
Dear Dr. Dunglison : My inclination to ask you a question is so
strong that I cannot resist it. Your accuracy as an orthoepist has
always excited my admiration, and led rae in most cases to follow
your lead unhesitatingly.
This has been the case in words ending in iasis, Elephantiasis,
Psoriasis, you put the stress on the antepenultimate Psoria'sis. The
lexicographers put it on the penult, Psori'asis. The rule is that deriv-
atives from the future of verbs in aw making aaty follow that quantity
\p(opiatj—a(ru)—ipc:Oi^ia(Tii. Please tcU me your reason for deviating
from the rule."
Dr. Dunglison to Dr. Bethune. "Philadelphia, Dec. 23, 1857.
My Dear Doctor : I cheerfully, and at once, reply to the question
you put to me ; and beg you to believe that I highly appreciate the
kind remark with which it is accompanied. I have been not a little
puzzled in regard to some of the suffixes in technical terms of Greek
origin, and confess that I am so in regard to the one on which you
consult me, iasis. •
At the present day, it is almost always appropriated to skin diseases
of a chronic kind, as in Petyria^^is, Elephantia*sis,Psoria^sis : of old it
had much the same application. I do not know of a case in which the
a was not marked — when marking was used — as short. In the case
of Elephanti'asis, if I had not so marked it, I should have preferred
Elephantiasis, because both the i and the a are by the lexicographers
rendered short. Elephantiasis, and when the first edition of my ' Lie-
tionary ' was published, I accented in the manuscript words, similarly
situated, after that fashion — Car'diacus, Syr'iacus, gyp'tiacus, grave'o-
lens, for example. Mr. Charles Folsom, however, who, at Cam-
bridge, read the proofs once for me — I being in Virginia — changed the
accent to the i ; and I did not always sufficiently attend to uniformity,
so that I find, even now, one or two of these words accented one way;
another, in another way ; and another without any accent at all. I
should p?v/er, in such cases, the accentuation used in the MS. copy of
my ' Dictionary ; ' but I find the custom so general to place the ac-
340 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
cent — where two vowels come together — on the first; that I have —
even in these words — been disposed to fall in with the custom — I
mean the custom of those Avho are acquainted with all the circumstances
of the case ; and I say Cardi'acus, &c. ; yet I have not got to say
grav'eolens ; as I ought for uniformity's sake. The advantage of car'-
diacus, grav'eolens, &c., is, that the accent shows you know the quan-
tity of the vowels — that they are both short.
In regard, however, to the words mentioned by you particularly, I
am not in possession of a single Lexicon, English, German or Ameri-
can, that gives any other pronunciation than Psoriasis, Elephantiasis,
Poteyriasis, &c. ; nor have I ever heard them so called, except by one
or two medical gentlemen here, who have now, however, determined
to abandon the accentuation on the a : yet I doubt not that amongst
the medical gentlemen in this country, short is the prevalent accentu-
ation, whilst it is, I believe, unknown in Europe amongst educated
physicians."
Dr. B. to Dr. Dunglison. ''December 24, 1857.
Usage is on your side dear Doctor, but I am not satisfied. Elephan-
tiasis is as you say — but it is hardly from ey.edavTtaco-atTw the cause from
the effect. Psoriasis is evidently from the verb xpupiau-airo Liddell and
Scott give ipuioiams Hedericus (?) ^wpiaan I can't find it in Scapula.
Labbe (?) I see shortens the penultimate et passim omnes — but look
what he says on Elephantiasis. I have turned to Athenseus iv. 17. The
line is
n 6' ccrriatris tcTxdJff kuI aTeix(pvXa
If the word be from the future of a o I do not see how all the author-
ity of the modern world can make the a short.
All the best wishes of the season to you and yours.
Affectionately, Geo. W. Bethune."
Dr. B. to Dr. Dunglison. *'N. Y, MarcJi 10, 1853.
My Very Dear Friend : I have just heard of the overwhelming sor-
row which has come upon you, and cannot restrain myself from express-
ing at once the grief and sympathy I feel. I had known that Mrs. Dung-
lison was ill, and anxiously, from time to time, without troubling you,
procured information. It is but a few weeks since Mrs. Ehvyn wrote
me most cheerful news, congratulating me on the hope I might cherisli
of Mrs Dunglison's recovery. I thanked God for you both, and for your
LETTER ON MRS. DUNGLTSON'S DEATH. 341
children's sakes. You know dear Doctor, how esteemed — the word is
too cold — how beloved your admirable wife was by all who had the hap-
piness of seeing her in the home which she made so pleasant to her friends,
and where we saw her fulfilling every duty with such cheerful tact and
consideration. You know too, that of those friends, no one could have
been more attached to Mrs. Dunglison, as well for lier own kindness as
for the blessing she was to the life of my dear friend, the father of her
children. I must rely on your knowledge of my heart for assurance of
my deep sense of your desolation, and of my suffering for you. Words
cannot express what you will believe that I feel. Never in all my ob-
servation of people, have I known man and wife so fitted to make each
other happy, or more devoted to each other's happiness ; and how you are
to bear your bereavement God only knows. To God only can I go with
my anxiety for you, and most devoutly have my poor prayers gone up,
as they will often, that He who has smitten would sustain you. The world
is valueless at such a moment, but He who made the heart and sees its
inmost bitterness has commanded us tlirough his Son Jesus Christ, the
man of sorrows and the God of comfort, to cast ourselves upon Him
that we may find support in his bosom.
Dear Doctor, we are passing away — our lives fail, we go gradually to
the grave, let us look abroad and beyond the present scene, and assure
ourselves through the grace of God, of abetter inheritance, where death
cannot reach us, and sorrow cannot come, because there, there will be no
more sin. It was but a day or two ago that I was thinking of your dear
daughter who left you for heaven, and remembering thankfully that I had
been of some use to her in preparation for a better life. Mrs. Lawrence
(Benj.Eichards' daughter) came in, and some not unpleasant tears were
shed by us both, while speaking of that dear child, whose face was so
often upturned to mine as I preached the gospel to her willing ears. Now
the mother and daughter are united. Let us try to follow them, my friend.
I am pained that I did not know soon enough to be among those who
were near you when the precious dust was laid in its resting place. Had
I known, nothing short of absolute inability could have prevented me
from going on. Mrs. Bethune joins me in assurances of sympathy.
Your greatly attached and affectionate friend,
George "W. Bethune.
RoBLEY Dunglison, M. D. "
342 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
On the nth Sept. 1854 Dr. Bethune writes to Dr. Dung-
lisoii to aid him in procuring a good physiological account
of" Laughter'' or '*' Mirthfuhiess". He wished also to know
if Dr. D. could remember a good treatise on Ridicule, its uses
and abuses, as it came within a plan of writing he had just
then.
Dr. Dunglison to G. W. B. "Philadelphia, Nov. 27, 1854.
My Dear Doctor : I have in my library two books, which, I think
would interest you in your researches. One of these is on the 'Epidemics
of the Middle Ages'. It was written by Hecker, Professor at Frederick
William's University, Berlin, and was translated by Dr. B. G. Babington,
M. D. F. R. S. It formed one of the volumes of the Sydenham Society's
works for 1844 ; and is I doubt not, to be seen in New York. It em-
braces the * Black DeatV (not in your line); the Dancing Jfawm, which is.
By all means, cast your discriminating eye over it. The chapters are,
first, Dancing Mania in Germany and the Netherlands ; second, Dancing
Mania in Italy (Tarantism); third, Dancing Mania in Abyssinia ; fourth,
Sympathy, with an appendix on different varieties of the delusion.
Another work, in two volumes, small octavo, is * The Cradle of the
T^vin Giants, Science and History', by Henry Christmas, M. A. F. E. S.
F. S. A. Librarian and Secretary of Zion College, London, 1849.
Book 4 of the second volume treats of Pheumatology ; and the preface
to the first volume contains a full bibliography of the authorities cited,
which includes many works you might wish to see.
I do not know any French work '■Sur la Folie\ which contains what
you desire. The best are those of Esguizol and Jenget, which I have.
The * Didionnaire des Sciences Ridicules,' the large work in upwards of
sixty volumes, contains axiidQs convulsionnaire fov example, which may
be worth looking at, but the two works first mentioned by me, comprise
enough perhaps for you."
The following anecdote is furnished by the Rev. D. M. L.
Quackenbush, in a letter to Mrs. Bethune :
" March 25, 1863.
My entreaty that you should favor me by writing some of the circum-
READINESS IN KXTEMPOUE PREACHING. 343
stances of the counsels of your wise husband, is linked in my mind with
this remembrance, whicli may not be without its value to you. I had
entered the study one day, when the Doctor said to me, ' A young min-
ister to-day asked me to explain to him my rules and habits of study.
I told him that I could show him how I studied, and laid upon the table
before him, these two books : ' showing mo his Bible and concordance,
both partly worn out with use. He then added, that he never trusted
himself, on writing his sermons, to quote any passage of Scripture,
until he had first, by the help of the concordance turned to it, that he
might both assure himself of his correct remembrance of its words, and
also of the relation in which it stood to the context. He urged the
greatest conscientiousness upon this subject, that no misrepresentation
of the mind of the Spirit might be made by those who preach the Word.
It was Dr. Bethune's habit while settled in Philadelphia, to preach
once a month in the morning, and again in the evening, and not in the
afternoon.
One very warm day in July, 1840, he was waited upon, soon after liis
morning service, by a committee of Dr. Barnes' church, who stated to
him that their pastor had been absent several Sabbaths ; that they had
made arrangements, as they supposed, to have the pulpit filled the pre-
vious Sabbath, and also that day, but in both cases they had been disap-
pointed, and they had pledged themselve:^ to the congregation to procure
a preacher for that afternoon, and they made a strong appeal to Dr. Be-
thune for liis services, to enable them to fulfil their promise. A good
deal prostrated by the heat, and his forenoon duties, the good-natured
Dr. nevertheless said, that if after they should have tried for some other
minister, whom they mentioned, they failed to procure one, he would
certainly preach for them. They left, but of course did not succeed,
and soon returned to claim the services of Dr. Bethune.
About 3 o'clock the Dr. went to his study, and selected a sermon, and
on coming down, Mrs. B. advised him to take a cup of tea before he
went, and, concluding to do so, he laid down his manuscript, and sat
down to the table. After tea, he proceeded to Dr. Barnes' church, and
found the house crowded, many of liis own flock being present. He
had selected a sermon preached two years previously in the city of New
York, on the commencement of the anniversaries ; and, remembering
344 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
the text and hymn, he proceeded with the preliminary services, read liis
text, and then opening his manuscript, saw at a glance that, instead of
bringing the sermon he intended, he had brought the one he had preached
in the morning to his own congregation, half of whom were present
now!
Without any visible pause, the Doctor, thrown suddenly upon his
mental powers, and tliinking (as he afterwards said to a friend) that any
fool could preach a sermon when it laid before him, determined to see
if he could not preach one, with another one before Mm ; and, although
he could not remember a particle of the manuscript, he commenced at
once a sermon, founded upon that text. He was listened to with deep
interest, but, after finishing, he made an apology to the congregation, by
stating the fact of bringing the wrong sermon.
After church, the Rev. Dr. V., who was present, asked the Dr. if
that was not the same sermon he had preached at the anniversaries in
New York, two years previously. Dr. Bethune replied that it was.
Then, said his friend, never take your manuscript of a sermon into the
desk with you again, for I heard the sermon z'Ae??, and have heard it
now, and the last one was far the best, in every particular."
At this point we may introduce a few specimens of Dr.
Bethune's wit. This is a side of his life which should be
made the most rich and spicy ; but how little capable are we
to reproduce that, the charms of which belonged so much
to its surroundings and to the expression of the voice.
One marked characteristic was its playfulness, and free-
dom from all malice. When occasion required it, he could
be severe enough, but his habitual humor was gentle and
kind. It was brilliant but harmless sheet lightning, blazing
but not forked, nor fatal in its stroke. It was the over-
flow of his own genial life, natural, spontaneous, impres-
sible, and often full of his classic culture and sparkling
spirit. It was, however, held in check by his dignity and
sense of propriety. And while it shone in conversation,
and on the platform, it never intruded upon the sacred pre-
cincts of the pulpit.
ANECDOTES. 345
Representing the Knickerbocker interest, he would, as
occasion offered, play his jokes upon the New Englanders.
One point where he had them at an advantage, was in the
disposition to leave their bleak homes for more congenial
climes. " They reminded him," he said, " of a Scotchman,
who was found shuddering all over with a fearful dream.
And what was the matter, was your father dead ? Waur
than that. Perhaps your mother ? Na, waur than that.
But what frightened you so, did you see the devil ? Far
waur than that. Why, what was it ? Hech, mon, I
dreamed I wor bock in Scotland ; and then he shivered
with horror."
On another occasion the toast was given, " Boston, the
place from which people go to all parts of the world." The
Doctor was quickly on his feet with the retort, " New York,
the place to which people come from all parts of the
world."
Lecturing on a very stormy night, the Doctor observed,
" Though the assembly is small, we have only to open the
upper windows, and we shall have an overflowing house."
"As I came round the corner, the wind having deranged
my umbrella, I had a lively sensation of what is called,
* scudding under bare poles.'" A gentleman, smaller in
stature, speaking before him at a public meeting, said he did
not know on what principle he was asked to precede Dr.
Bethune, except that little wheels always were before big
ones. The reply of the ready orator was by a Scotch an-
ecdote, in which the spokesman praising a lad cries, " Weel
done, wee Willie, muckle ane hae ketch 3-e." On another
occasion, when Admiral (then Captain) Foote addressed the
meeting first. Dr. Bethune said, " You know that we had to
put our best foot foremost to-night."
346 »IEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
Conversing with a stout gentleman, whose face bore
external evidence of good living, yet who spoke in feeble
tones, complained of his health, and said that he " was
as weak as a moth," " A Behemoth, I think," replied the
laughing minister. Sometimes, however, his wit was fully
matched by that of his subject. Thus, when Dr. Bethune
was walking with a clergyman almost as full in person as
himself, they spied another Brooklyn pastor, who presented
a perfect contrast to their rotundity, and who, at the time,
was suffering from a horrible attack of dyspepsia. As he
approached, Bethune said to his companion, within hearing
of the third party, " See there ! anybody that looks so ca-
daverous as that, can't have a good conscience." The
thin parson was wide awake, and rejoined, '' Brethren, I
don't know about the conscience, but Pd rather have the
gizzard of one of you, than the brains of both." The
good Doctor enjoyed the sharp reply, and after a hearty
laughter, said, " Let us go, we can't make anything out of
him to-day."
On another occasion, when introducing a lank clerical
friend of the same denomination, (Baptist) to another inti-
mate companion, with a twinkle of the eye, and in tones
which none could more amusingly emploj^, he added, to
the ceremonial announcement of his name and position,
" But he's rather shrunk in the wetting."
In a synodical debate. Dr. Bethune, taking a one-sided
view of a subject, was charged with being a jug with one
handle ; after a little while a man who got himself on two
horns of a dilemma, was represented as a jug with two
handles, but it was reserved for the Doctor to make the
best use of the joke ; for a brother having risen who was
rather famous for non-committalism, and who, on this sub-
SCOTCH STORY. 347
ject was no where, Dr. Bethune said, wc have had jugs
with one handle and jugs with two handles, but here we have
a jug with no handle at all.''
But it was his story-telling, whether at the dinner-table,
or in the social circle, that made all about him radiant with
smiles. He had a fund of anecdotes, that seemed never
exhausted, and yet, as we try to write them, they seem to
have lost all their power. It was the grace and tact of the
narrator that gave them their lustre.
One of his Scotch stories ran as follows ; it related to
the times of Claverhouse, when the poor Covenanters were
so fearfully persecuted by his dragoons : A Scotch lad was
reading to his parents the Scripture in the book of Revela-
tion, and came to that passage, " and lo ! another wonder
in Heaven, a great red dragon," which he pronounced
dragoan; ''Hoot awa', laddie," cried the father, ''that's
no' richt, for I'se aye sure that nane of Claverhouse's men
gang to Heaven ; read it ower again." So the boy repeated
the sentence, spelling the word dragon as before, dragoo?!.
"Sure enoo, it's dragoon, noo' try it again, an' if ye no'
read it richt this time, I'll e'en gie ye a thrashing," said
the enraged father. The youngster attempting the passage
the third time with great care, still rendered it in the same
manner. The father was about seizing his cudgel to correct
the reader of heresy, when the naother interposed, saying,
"Dinna' fash yersel', auld mon, dun ye no speer (see) it
was a wunner in Heaven, thet ane o' Claverhouse's men
happened to get in ? "
A young friend, who had joined the Baptists, approached
him timidly, lest the Doctor might censure his choice. After
some hesitation, he broaclied the subject with the remark,
" Well, Doctor ; yesterday I joined the Army of Zion."
348 MExMOm OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
" Did you/' was the reply, '' in which church ? '' " In the
Pierrepont Street Baptist/' came the faltering answer.
" Oh ! I understand," said the Doctor, '' but I should call
that joining the Navy." The young man was thus placed
at his ease, and perfect fellowship was established.
In closing this chapter we subjoin as specimens of his
kindly playfulness, the following " rhyming letters " the
first furnished us by Mr. L. G. Clarke ; the second written
to a young friend, daughter of the Rev. E. H. May.
The Mr. Gary, upon whose name he rings the verbal
changes, was a most accomplished Christian gentleman ; a
successful Nev7-York merchant, possessed of a benignant
and happy fortune ; a bank president ; an elegant essayist
(his nom de plume *' John Waters "), and a true lover, ac-
knowledged judge, and generous patron of art. That he
understood the aesthetics of the table may be inferred from
the doctor's *' versides," as he termed them ;
" It's quite extraordinary
In my friend Mr. Gary
To pretend unto so much amazement,
That another should think
Cold water good drink.
When he can't dine in John Waters' basement.
His own store of wine
Is so varied and fine,
(Some of it came from the East in the Argo,)
That he should have pity,
And not be so witty
On a bard who has no Chateau Margau.
Why the man's very name
In poetical fame
Is waterish e'en if his verse be not \
And all know bow he raves
LETTER TO JOHN WATERS. , 349
About fountains and waves,
Whether salt or fresh waters cares he not.
As for stocks — and all that —
I'm a good democrat ;
Hating banks — I defy all that stock-broking ;
But Waters himself
By them has lost pelf,
So I guess — from his lachrymose joking.
But this I tell thee.
That with good company
Like you both — (I pray you don't doubt it !)
Cold water would be
More grateful to me,
Than magnums of good wine without it.
I write as I'm able
At my late breakfast table,
Preserving my best philosophy,
And wish you both health,
Fame, comfort, and wealth
In a cup of good strong Mocha coffee.
From Philadelphia,
This twenty-third day
Of March (though my hand seems to vary,)
I assure you, in tune,
'lis G. W. Bethunk
Writes you this by a kind secretary,
Mr. Lewis G. Clarke,
Who cannot keep dark
Any rhyme that a rash friend may send him.
But my heart's not a hard one.
So I give him my pardon,
With the hope that good luck may attend him ! "
350 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
" It gives me hearty pleasure, my dear Miss Caro May,
To use my earliest leisure, in answering your lay ;
But you are, I'm sure you know it, modest as you may be.
So natural a poet, as quite to puzzle me.
For you will be insisting on rhyme to answer rhyme,
And it costs me such a twisting of words about, and time,
That what to you is easy, since you were born a bard,
(Howe'er I strive to please ye) to me is very hard.
Eager as I endeavor to echo back your wit.
You are so very clever, I must give over it.
So I'll not stay now for phrases, or nicely measured strain,
But tell you how the case is, in rapid words and plain.
And first as you desire, I'll tell you of my wife.
She's happy near her sire, with a new lease of her life.
When we left you it was raining, and it rained on through the
night.
But we thought not of complaining, for all turned out just right ;
Next morning about seven, the clouds 'gan break away,
And gave us from eleven, a dry and pleasant day ;
So we left the canal basin without fear or annoy.
And in the boat "John Mason " went safely up to Troy ;
My father-in-law's old carriage, was waiting for us there,
(We rode in't at our marriage, a young and happy pair.
Since then through changes plenty, our wedded life has been ;
I was just over twenty, my wife past seventeen;)
Her bed of India-rubber, I put the seats across,
Did you e'er know such a lubber, for a rhyme I'm at a loss ,•
We laid her then upon it, for the coach is very large,
And when I'd safely done it, I left my precious charge.
Mary squeezed in beside her, John mounted on the box
With a brother's care to guard her, safe from the ruts and rocks.
I went then to a stable, and hired a horse and chair.
For as yet I was not able to banish all my care.
And followed them to German's, it may be six miles or more,
'Cross a hill as high as Hermon's, and saw them safely o'er.
Then sadly there we parted, I shed tears like a boy.
And slow and broken-hearted went straightway back to Troy.
They arrived quite safe at Salem, at an hour not very late,
RHYMING LETTER. 351
As nothing seemed to fail 'em a half an hour past eight ;
I had a letter from her, in which she cheerily says,
She's having a sweet summer in her home of early days ;
I go from here next Monday, in haste, her then to see
Stopping at Goshen one day with my sister's family.
Give my love to all around you, I have no time to write more.
And let it not astound you that I did not write before ;
For I've been very busy with many a hard affair,
About wliich a merry missy, like you lias little care !
God bless your father, mother, your sisters twain, also,
"With each kind-hearted brother ; and I wish yourself to know.
As I bid good-by unto you, though ray name in haste I sign.
That a friendly heart more true you will rarely know than mine.
'Mongst those who love you dearly, (please write to Salem soon,)
Always reckon most sincerely, George W. Bethune."
352 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHDNE, D. D,
CHAPTER Xin.
PATRIOTISM UNION SPEECH.
We should neglect a great feature in Dr. Bethune if we
did not describe him as a patriot, and a patriot of the first
water, whose love of country, like every grand sentiment,
bordered on the extravagant ; whatever he did, he did
strongly, and so his devotion to the Constitution and Union
of the States was a mighty devotion.
"During the Presidential campaign of 1856, when the Kansas trouble
filled the land with unusual excitement, he was the victim of the deepest
anxiety. After the vote had determined that Mr. Buchanan was to be
the next President, he wrote a long, earnest, and eloquent letter to that
gentleman, with whom he had personal friendship, imploring him, as he
loved his country, and would prevent the calamity of a civil war, to use
his great influence, when in the Presidential cliair, to arrest the march
of the slave power, and repress the violence of its reckless propagandism.
That letter he read to me in the privacy of his study, his voice at times
choking with emotion, and the tears running down from his eyes, saying
as he closed, ' I love my country, and if there is a word in this letter
that ought not to be said, tell me to strike it out.' I shall never forget
that day. It was the beginning of a series of mental excitements which
has at last ended in the quiet sleep."
The foregoing is quoted from the Ohio State Journal of
May 20, 1862, and comes from the Rev. E. S. Porter, D. D.,
who was intimate with Dr. Bethune. The original letter
we have not been able to obtain and rather wonder that n o
copy of it exists among our papers, but the answer to it is
as follows ;
EDWARD EVERETT TO DR. BETHUNE. 353
'* Wheatlands, Penn, Nov. 27, 1866.
My Deab Dr. Bethune : I have perused your very kind letter of
the 21st Last., with deep interest, and sincerely regret that my numer-
ous and pressing engagements allow me no time to answer it as it well
deserves. I feel proud of your good opinion and am happy to say that
the friendly sentiments which you express for myself have been cordially
reciprocated on ray part ever since our first acquaintance.
I feel, as I ought to do, the high responsibility of my position; but
placing my trust in God, and asking wisdom from on high, I shall pro-
ceed with a cheerful and unfaltering spirit to perform the task assigned
to me by my countrymen. This was neither sought nor desired by my-
self.
In haste, I remain very respectfully,
Your friend,
James Buchanan.
Rev. Dr. Bethune."
The followiDg acknowledgement from Edward Everett
shows that Dr. Bethune was diligent in the good cause :
"I am extremely obliged to you for the kind expressions contained
in the latter portion of your letter. I have looked, and still look, with
great anxiety, upon the condition and tendency of affairs. We seem to
be borne, upon a rushing tide, toward a doubtful future ; and much
more of the intellectual power of the country is put forth to drive the
bark onward, than to steer its course or ascertain its destination. We
are piling rosin into the furnace, and leaving the helm to take care of
itself. If, as you are kind enough to tliink, my voice, almost spent,
has not been uttered wholly in vain in favor of more prudent counsels,
I shall, so far, have performed the duty of a good citizen."
In December, 1859, a great opportunity for the display
of his oratorical powers came. The United States were to
be dismembered. There breathed no man with soul so
dead as to look with coldness on the fateful struggle. The
23
354 MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETIIUNE, D. D.
great Union Meeting in the New York Academy of Music,
was called, and he attended as a private individual. The
meeting had been prevised, and Bethune was not on the
programme, but when discovered, he was enthusiastically
called for, even before the appointed speakers of the even-
ing had delivered themselves. At first he hesitated, having
a desire to avoid violent excitement, but moved by the
tremendous popular cries, he came forward and addressed
the meeting ; we reproduce the speech as a noble expres-
sion of patriotism, and as it gives Dr. Bethune's sentiments
on the Great Question.
"I rise, sir, not because I have the presumption to think that I can
preserve the attention of this vast assembly, after all the excellent
things they have heard this evening, at this late hour. But, sir, I come
before this audience to show myself. (Great cheering.) Insignificant
as I, personally, may be among the millions of this land, and weak in
influence as my voice may be, when that voice is called for, and there
is a question where I stand, I wish to be reckoned with the Union now
and forever. (Loud cheers.) Yes, sir, I love the Union, and when I
say that, it is with the wish that if that Union is to perish, I may die
first. And, sir, there are many things which have been said here this
evening, with some of which I may frankly say I could not coincide.
I am not going to read law to you, sir. It is not my province, and I
must be excused from accepting the theology of some gentlemen who
have invaded mine. (Laughter.) Sir, when I saw the call of tliis
meeting, I said I must be there. Never have I attended a public meet-
ing in any way political before in my life. (Cheers, and cries of
♦Good.') And I can say, with a clear conscience, that no man has
ever heard me utter in public a single word of party politics. I belong
to a higher service. (Renewed cheering.) I am, by my calling and
my vows, a minister of the Gospel of Peace, and it is as a minister of
peace that I am among you to-night. (Applause.) It is high time,
when the pulpit is desecrated by appeals to the wildest fanaticism,
(Loud cheers, and a remark, • The right man is in the right place this
UNION SPEECH. 355
time!') — when rnen, by voice of ecclesiastics, are canonized because
tliey h:ive shown the pluck of a bull-dog, with the blood-thirstiness of
the tiger (applause) — it is high time, I say, that one who, humble as
myself, believes that the Gospel is * Peace on earth and good-will
toward man,' should act upon his principles. (Loud applause.) I will
not enter into any of the disputed questions that have been foisted into
our meeting to-night. I have seen a discussion about the call of this
meeting, that there was first one call, then it was altered for another
call, that the same people who signed one could not have signed the
other. I never read either one call or the other through (laughter) ;
all I saw in the call was the word ' Union,' (continued cheering), and
that was enough. (Renewed cheering.) I remember an honest Gov-
ernor of Pennsylvania, whose ancestry was traceable in his broken
speech, was appealed to for the pardon of a man who had murdered his
wife, but the honest old man said, ' What ! pardon a man for such a
crime as that, — a man who could take a woman, and promise to nour-
ish and cherish, and den kill her? Vy, he ought to be 'shamed of him-
self.' (Uproarious laughter and cheers.) So I say here to-night, if
any man, in getting up this meeting, or in coming to this meeting, has
had a thought of Democrat or Republican, or Native American higher
in his mind than Union, he ought to be ashamed of himself. Kor shall
I have sympathy with him except he repent in sackcloth and ashes.
You talk of the Union being dissolved. Sir, there has been deep feel-
ing in most of the speeches I have heard this evening. They say if
this Union is to be dissolved — when the Union is dissolved. "Why
that, sir, is what we logicians call an impossible hypothesis. The
Union is not going to be dissolved. Do you remember, sir, that once,
in old Rome, there was a gulf opened across the city ; it was widening
and widening until it threatened to engulf the whole of that splendid
Capitol, when one, Marcus Curtius, mounted his steed, fully armed and
equipped, and rode toward the chasm and leaped into it, a wilhng victim
to save his Rome? Sir, should such a chasm happen in our Union,
there is not one, but there are a hundred Curtii, — a hundred times
ten thousand, — that are willing to leap into it. Divide the Union!
Where are you going to divide the line? (A voice, Mason and Dixon's
line.) Mason and Dixon's fiddlesticks. Do you want to go ? Wliich
side do you mean to go ? I know where I should go. It would be with
35 G MEMOIR OF GEO. W. BETHUNE, D. D.
that section that holds fastest to the Constitution as it is. (Loud
cheers.)
Sir, if any man has a right to be proud of his native place, perhaps it
is the man who speaks to you, for I was born in New York. But, sir,
what is New York ? What is the North ? What is the South ? What
is the East ? What is the West ? Take away this Union and we are
nothing; worse than notliing; a conflicting, jostling chaos of rude,
crumbling fragments. It is not for me to enter into this question. But
I repeat, where will you draw a line ? Will you split the Mississippi ?
Try it. Are you going to divide by the assumed or imputed evil of
slavery? Where does slavery stop? They grow cotton at the South,
but where do they manufacture it ? (Tremendous cheering.) I beg
your pardon, but I have not time to be cheered. I have read a story
of Cook, the drunken player, who once, in Liverpool, came upon the
stage to act, and his condition being evident when he approached the
footlights, they Mssed him. His indignation restored him for a moment,
and he looked at the Liverpoolians, as he called them, saying, 'You
hiss George Frederick Cook, you people of Liverpool, with the sweat
and blood of the slave between every two bricks of your house ? ' It
was so. There never was a slave in Liverpool, if I remember, but
they profited by the slave. They bought and sold Mm. Yes, sir, there
exists, if I mistake not, in the plate-room of Windsor Castle, a splendid
service of gold, given to one of the royal dukes, by Liverpool merchants,
for liis efforts to prevent the abolition of the slave-trade. But I wander
from my purpose, in recalling that historical reminiscence, which was
to say, that, in some sections of our land, where the loudest cry is heard
upon tliis question, men have grown rich by these slaves ; that the blood
and sweat of the slave is between every two bricks of their sumptuous
palaces. Now people may call this what they please, I call it hypocrisy.
(Tremendous cheers.) Where will you draw this line? I will tell you
where you must draw it. If you draw it at all you must draw it across
and through our dearest affections. We are one people. The man
who lives on the Aroostook, has his brother on the Rio Grande. The
Northern mother has given her child to the Southern planter, and the
Southern planter bows in thankfulness to God for the daughter of
the North to cheer his home. Will you dissolve this Union ? (Cries
of ' No, no,' and cheers.)
PATRIOTISM. 357
I tell you, you need not ask the question. You cannot. You cannot.
It will be far better than the Sabines and the Romans. You have not
taken violently the women of the South to be your wives. You have
exchanged consanguinity, you cannot separate them. What God hath
joined together, let no man put asunder. (Prolonged applause, the
whole assembly, on the platform, floor and galleries, rising, waving
hats, cheering and shouting, in wild enthusiasm.) A word or two more.
I will not say that I have said all that I wish. There are many things
which I could, and in another condition of circumstances might be glad
to say, which I shall not inflict upon you now. This is not a time for
dry metaphysics. But I believe, sir, that we inherit from our fathers
some degree of that honesty and truth for which they were distinguished
and for which their God and our God blessed them. Our fathers made
the compact of this Union — our fathers made the Constitution as the
mighty bond that should hold it together. And I have one belief that
this gift has of itself proA'en with its checks, its balances, and its
securities, so good that any alteration would be for the worse
(* Good ! ') — that it contains witliin itself a perfect remedy for every
evil, if our people will faithfully apply it and wait for the operation of
the remedy. There is, therefore, n-) room for revolution in this
country ; and it may be said of all those who hesitate about its principles.
He that doubteth, is worthy of condemnation. (Cheers.) But, sir, why
should we not keep to this, our fatliers' faith? We should know that \rc
are bound by that deed. Has it not been in the faith of that compact
that this country has grown to its present prosperity, and shall we, the
inheritors of all the blessings, break the vows of even political baptism,
which, as our sponsors, they made for us ? No, No ! Let us keep this.
Lot all our people learn that thoy are bound by ties which none can
break. The bones which are now mouldering to kindred dust are sacred
with ihe nieraorios of their patriotism. We should be violaters of the
vows they made if we suffer one stone of the Union reared by them to
be pulled down. Sh', I agree in many respects with my good friend the
ProfL'Ssor, who spoke before me, and I have great regard for him, but I
can not help thinking tliat he got among the stars to-night. (Laughter.)
I believe in a system of government which is maintained by working,
men, men wlio work in their primary meetings, and who are not afraid
of getting their coats torn by a rowdy ; men who are willing to take their
358 MEMOIR OF GEO. AV. BETKUNE, D. D.
places and scuffle if it be necessary, to see that the voice of the people
is attained. (Cheers and applause.) Men who, if their countrymen
call them to office, do not mistake cowardice for modesty, and refuse to
serve. No matter where the man is, there he should be faithful to God,
faithful to man, ftiithful to liis country, faithful to the world. I am
thankful that I can not be a candidate for office. I once held an office
under the general government, and I was offered another. The other I
did not like, (hiughter) but the first I did. It kept me five